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One quick jab and a jagged pull across his throat: a retribution for daring to think he could have her attention. I flip him over onto his back, listening to the gurgles of blood as he reaches for the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

I pull the mask off to get a good view of his suffering. I can see in his eyes the shock when he realizes it’s me. Good ol’ Preston from the library. Not once did he think I could be capable of something this extreme. The knife twirls in my hand before I land a stab into the flesh of his chest, then another and another, until Hudson’s body gives up the struggle. His body twitches once more, then goes still for good.

Blood collects beneath him, soaking into the dirty off-white carpet and spreading outward. A dark stain that will never go away; it does actually make me feel bad for the extra work the next owner would have, needing to tear it out.

The entire house seems to pause, except for the continued ticking of the clock. I stand over his body, my own chest rising and falling steadily as my pulse returns to normal, while his is stopped completely. I’m calm and centered now. The anger that consumed me at the library was gone now, replaced by the peaceful satisfaction of a job well done.

This isn’t just revenge; it’s balance. It’s the natural order of things, asserting itself. Hudson overreached, and now the universe is correcting the mistake through me.

I wipe the blade clean on the one spot of his shirt that isn’t soaked, making sure to remove as much of the blood as I possibly can until I can give it a proper clean at home. The knife disappears into my pocket again, where it always resides, waiting for the next time.

I go through the house one final time, checking for any evidence I might have left behind. I was careful, as always. No fingerprints, no DNA, no trace that I’d ever been here. Except for the dead body. To the police, it will look like a break-in gone wrong. Another meaningless tragedy in a neighborhood where such things weren’t uncommon.

And Wynnie, she’ll figure out this lesson sooner or later: I will kill the entire world if that means I’ll get to keep her as mine.

The disturbed thought fills me with a feeling of purpose. This is love in its purest form, devotion so complete that it transcends normal boundaries. Wynnie might not appreciate the sacrifice I’m making for her happiness yet, but she will, and I don’t doubt it. Until then, I will continue to be her invisible protector.

10

Darling

Iknew when Preston stormed out of the library this morning exactly what was going to happen to Hudson. The idea alone should horrify me, and three weeks ago, it definitely would have, but today, I feel nothing but fulfillment. Weirdly, no grief or remorse.

It feels hard to pinpoint the exact moment I became this person. I once was the person who felt sick and cried when I saw a cat dead on the side of the road, and now I’ve orchestrated another person’s death.

Well, two, considering Hudson.

Before the end of my shift, I begin the second phase: Ellie. I’ve been reeling her in like the perfect little fish she is, and God, it was so easy.

In another life that wasn’t tainted by blood, I would have actually liked Ellie. From the videos I saw of her online, she’s free and silly with an infectious laugh, reminding me a lot of a dark-haired Blaire. But not in this life, not after everything her brother has taken from me.

I’ve spent the past few days perfecting my approach. Casual mentions to her via DMs about parties I’d supposedly thrown. Stories about my wild college life that are complete fabrications. I’ve created myself to be the fun party girl, similar to her.

When I tell her I’m having a party tonight, she can’t resist.

|Ellie: OMG! YES! I’ve been dying for something fun!

By the time her car pulls into the driveway, there is a buzz of wildfire beneath my flesh. This is it. There is no turning back now. The words echo in my head, repeating like a mantra, but underneath is a smaller, quieter voice: You don’t have to do this. You can still stop.

I silence it ruthlessly.

I sprint towards the window and peek out through the blinds. The night feels thick and engulfing, the way it always is when something bad is going to happen. The mid-October air carries the scent of dying leaves and distant smoke, but even through the normalcy of the quiet country evening, I spot her.

She’s small, giggling to herself as she stumbles up the walkway in heels too tall for her tiny frame. Her ankle twists as her heel slips on a piece of glass, but she doesn’t seem to pay any mind to it.

Ellie is dressed in a short black dress, hair curled in perfect, brushed-out spirals, and makeup applied that looks as though it would have taken at least an hour to do. She got ready for a party, a night of fun, being young and careless.

I double over slightly, gripping the windowsill until my top knuckles go white. What the hell am I doing? This girl has done nothing; her only crime is sharing DNA with a monster.

But then I remember the lives cut short because of Preston. They’d each been snuffed out like candles, leaving me in the dark.

I force my face into a cheery mask and yank the door open when she knocks.

“Hey girl!” I chirp so fake that it makes my stomach flip.

I pull her into a hug, as if we were best friends when we’d only been DM-ing for a few days. I can feel how unsteady she already is. I can smell traces of alcohol, sweet and fruity, while her makeup is already smudging just beneath her eyes.

“Ugh! You started without me!”