The moon hung low in the sky, a silver kiss upon the earth, its light casting a soft, ethereal glow over the quiet garden. Lila stood there, breathless, her heart fluttering like a bird caught in a net. Her gaze locked with his—Nathaniel’s—his eyes deep, like twin pools of night, pulling her in closer, making her forget everything but him.

His smile was slow, deliberate, the kind of smile that promised things untold, hidden in the shadows where light dared not tread. The air between them crackled, thick with anticipation, and yet, something about it felt wrong. She couldn’t quite place it—was it the way his fingers twitched, as though eager to touch her? Or the way his presence seemed to fill the garden, suffocating it, until there was no air left but him?

“You’re beautiful,” Nathaniel whispered, his voice soft, coaxing. His words slid over her skin like silk, but there was something unsettling in their warmth, something that made her pulse race for reasons she couldn’t explain. She took a step forward, almost instinctively, drawn to him as if by some invisible thread.

He took her hand, his touch cold as ice, sending a shock through her body. His grip tightened slightly, possessive, and she gasped, but it wasn’t from fear. It was something darker, something thrilling that made her blood run hot and cold all at once.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, and the world seemed to tilt as his breath lingered against her skin. Her body moved closer, compelled, despite the knot of unease tightening in her chest.

Something was wrong. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t move away, even as she felt the earth beneath her feet shift, as though it too wanted to hold her captive. A distant, echoing sound broke through the silence—a creak of the old iron gate swinging open, the faintest whisper of movement that sent chills crawling up her spine. The moon’s light, once soft and gentle, now felt harsh, glaring down at them as if it knew the truth.

He tilted his head, and for a brief moment, Lila saw the hunger in his eyes—a dark, insatiable need that chilled her to the bone. But before she could pull away, he kissed her, and the world spun wildly. His lips were too cold, too unyielding, as if they were not meant for the warmth of living flesh.

The garden seemed to close in around them, the shadows deepening, the flowers wilting as the kiss lingered longer than it should have. And then she understood. He wasn’t just taking her heart—he was taking her soul, pulling her into a dark, endless night where she would never see the light again.

When he finally pulled away, his smile was different—darker. “Forever,” he whispered, the word sinking into her skin like a promise, a curse.

I eyed Marilyn pridefully as she laid still in our bed. I glided over the gray, shagged carpet in our bedroom like it was an ice rink and stood by her side at the edge of the bed. I lowered my head and gently kissed her forehead. “She’s so beautiful,” I thought, as I wiped her hot blood from her gunshot wound from my lips.

(inspired by a tiktok written from the perspective of the man holding the woman)

“As we dance to the masochism tango.” The love of my life clings on The song ringing on With each syllable Her wounds reopened, minimal Her body slowly dropping down Her legs cant stand no long, the stitches are long gone As we dance to the Masochism Tango.

1963 “Hi!” I said as I approached my date. She had such a beautiful figure, perfectly proportioned. Her blonde hair had a soft beach wave style, so it bounced slightly as she turned her head towards me. Her blue eyes practically glowed in the light of the theatre lights outside. Her sundress was a shade of pink that made her look like a rare flower.

I reached her, I waited to see her greeting for me. She opened her arms, ‘a hug? Wow!’ I thought as I smiled and hugged her back.

Her plush breasts pressed against my chest, I was slightly taller than her but she stood on her tippy toes to hug me. It felt so nice. I wanted to never let her go, her scent was like lilac and pine meshed together with a hint of spice. I wrapped my arm around her waist as we separated from our hug, “shall we?” I asked. Her smile glowed like the sun, no… that’s not right. The moon.

Her entire being just radiated the moon. Soft, and subtle yet so beautiful that you can’t stop looking. I was mesmerized by her. And she’s only 22. How lucky am I? To be on a date as a 32 year old man, with such an exquisite woman.

I led the way into the theatre, though we lived in a small town in Georgia we still had something as fancy as a theatre. ‘Thanks to the donation of my father, Frederick Albertzon. May he rest in peace.’ I thought as I looked at the “in memory of” photo of my dad. I looked back to my date.

Her name was Elizabeth Strooter. From what I gathered she and her family moved a few months ago here to Buchana, Georgia. Like myself. She came from a relatively poor background, her parents had moved here for a new start. Being in debt was hard for them in the big city. Fortunately, they hadn’t found them yet. Of course given that they lived in a town with less than 1,000 people.

We watched ‘The Godfather’ which I found ironic given her families circumstances. But held my tongue as I didn’t want to upset her.

As we left the theatre, she began to behave differently. Her hand gently traced my forearm down to my hand. I walked with her and held her hand in mine. She seemed lonely, I looked down at her. “Would you like to go somewhere else? I don’t think I want this night to end.” I asked her, she blushed and nodded. “I would like that very much.”

I nodded and guided her to my car, opening the passenger door for her. Helping her in, she smiled up at me. I smiled back, then gently shut the door. I got on the drivers side entered the car. I looked over at her, who had scooted over to where she could sit right next to me.

As we drove around town, we looked for a place to spend time together. I seen a clearing on the outskirts of town that lead to the woods. I looked at her eyes that screamed ‘yes!’ Her smile was quite large. I couldn’t tell if she was more excited about being with me or going to the woods.

“Why do you look so excited?” I asked her, curiously. “Growing up, I use to go to the woods and find different types of plants and look them up in a planters book. I wanted to become a gardener or botanist; I haven’t been to the woods since. As my parents believe that I’ll get kidnapped there.” Her voice was like silk, I smiled as she spoke. “Well, I’m glad to make your night this way.” I spoke gently. She looked at me, and then slowly leaned into my lips.

I was surprised but couldn’t turn away a kiss from her. She was irresistible.

I stopped the car as we kissed, it was passionate. She placed her hands on my thigh, I pulled away. She looked startled, I gently grabbed her hand. “Come with me.” I said in a seductive voice.

She turned red and nodded her head. Before we left I grabbed my satchel from the back of the car, then I lead her through the woods to a spot just as beautiful as her. I looked at her, grabbing her face gently.
I kissed her, she wrapped her arms around me. Kissing me deeply. I pressed myself against her, gently moving my hips to see how she would react.

A moan escaped her lips and she put her hand behind my head. She turned her head to the side, I kissed her neck and another moan came out. Her hand slid inside my pants, I groaned in pleasure.

Laying her down I grabbed her hands and put them above her head, holding them with one hand I explored her body. Her breathing began getting heavy, as I slowly made my way to the bottom of her dress. I played with her. Her moans made me so crazy.

“I want to hear you scream.” I said, as I let go of her hands and slid down kissing every inch of her body. She opened her legs so I could please her.

I looked at her as I licked her, her hands in my hair; pulling my tongue deeper. She gasped as I flicked and licked. I loved hearing her in pleasure.

“I want it.” She breathed heavily, “I want it all.” I grinned as she begged me to put it in. I took it out and revealed it to her. Her eyes became wide.

Her legs wrapped around me as she squirmed, her screams echoing through the sky. Her eyes were wide as it slid in and out of her. Her juices were all over me, I wanted to finish but I could tell she wasn’t done yet by the way her hands moved along my arms. Her eyes looked into mine, pupils so big that I could see my reflection through them. I licked her face as she grabbed the back of neck, she pushed me off. I grinned and bit my lip as I looked down at her. Her soft features glowed beautifully in the moonlight, perfectly caressing her figure beneath me. Her blonde hair looked silver, like she had essense of the moon shining through her. Her nipples poking out of her dress, as her chest heaved heavily.

I kept plunging it inside of her; harder, faster. Vigorously thrusting it in. Her juices sprayed underneath me, “fuck yes.” I moaned as her body began to spasm, her breathing became labored. As did mine. I felt a wave of pleasure begin to sweep throughout my entire body. My veins on fire.

I closed my eyes as we finished. Her body went limp, I panted, straddling over her. Smiling up, as I pulled it out of her. I looked down at her once again.

Her eyes dark, blood drops covered her beautiful soft features. Her now blonde hair drenched in blood, her breasts laid still as her chest sunk in as she let out her last breath.

I stood up and examined my work. I grinned as I cleaned my bloody knife. I didn’t think she could look any more perfect but seeing her like this I couldn’t help but truly appreciate her beauty.

I took the polaroid camera out of my satchel that lay a couple feet from my masterpiece, putting a sharpie in my mouth; then I took a photo and waited for the film to process.

“What should I call you?” I stared at her lifeless body and thought deeply. “Oh! I know!” I began writing on the margin of the Polaroid photo.

‘MOONBEAM’

Sooo…was watching YouTube and saw a short explaining something that I wanted to know was normal. I apparently have maladaptive daydreaming and uhm, it’s research time again. I do everything he listed.

For a short description: You spend an extensive amount of time making fake scenarios in your head to escape reality. You even walk around acting as though this is real by mouthing or doing what the characters inside your head are doing. These things can be so compelling that you stop whatever you’re doing to do them.

😐 That is literally me. Every. Single. DAY. Class or no class. I hurry doing what ever I’m doing, put in my headphones and some music, then just run around, imagining, blocking everything out and getting annoyed when someone interrupts me. I do it at school to, minus the headphones. That’s how I make Rayburn and Oswald stories.

Like, I’m so glad that the thing I do is something other people have, but the guy said that not a lot of study has been done. Like BRUH people study the wrong fricken stuff!

If you have it too, welcome to the group! I know I’m not the only one anymore. That’s for reading this if you made it this far. I am going to write something soon—probably. This probably going to be banned. Haha.

Have an amazing day! ❤️

Prancing drinking like there’s no tomorrow does that make you feel good powerful one of the boys I’ll tell you something. You don’t look like one of the boys you look like the hooker paid to keep them company.

The way too much you look at her you want to fuck her thank you I won’t tell

The hooker comment didn’t go well last night It’s time sensitive so are my feelings

What are you doing? Are you? Weak? It’s typical me like it a lot that is imply she’s got right promotion

The only man who walked over me was you

This promotion made me stressed not my self I’m out of my mind

Please calm me back

I’m sorry it’s this a sick joke setting of a fucking bomb

He’s a psycho

Welcome to my fare well party not this engagement party

Split up In my face fucking coward

You are nothing but a liar who sexed her way to the top

Here he’s your fucking hooker

I’m your fucking hooker

She chains her self

Now fuck me

When the bitch bites it bites back

Her mouth opens fangs open claws into his neck

Beg for mercy see you bleed

Say sorry for fucking me up

Wipe the lick the of the floor

I’m done with you now

To My Dear Sweet Catherine,

Hello darling. I woke this morning to find your side of the bed empty. The rumpled cotton sheets still smelled of your perfume. Oh, what torture it is to close my eyes and see your face. To kiss those sweet lips of yours. To caress your beautiful soft skin. Only to wake and grasp at the empty air. It’s been one week, two days, and 17 hours since you left. God only knows where you are. But I want you to know that I will be waiting for you to return until the day I die. that is, unless you die first. I cannot fathom how agonizing it would be for me to see you with someone else. Is that where you’ve gone? Have you fled to the arms of another man? Oh, Catherine… if that’s the case, please don’t ever let me know. Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine what I would do to you. To him. To the both of you. I imagine tying him up and making him watch as I make sweet, passionate love to you. When we are finished, I will watch the Crimson liquid pour from your gaping mouth as I drive the blade of my knife deep into your silky, smooth abdomen. I imagine he will cry, and that will only fuel my resolve. I will listen to you gasp and gurgle, and look into your beautiful ocean eyes as the last ounce of life slowly drains from them. then I will lick your blood from my knife and use it to cut off a lock of your golden curls. It will be something to remember you bye. After I’m finished with you, I can see myself sauntering over to where your lover lies, bound and gagged. Oh, but his death will come so much more slowly. As I remove the gag from his mouth, I imagine I’ll be fixated on those lips that have kissed you 1000 times. . Where have his lips kissed you, Catherine? Have they trailed along the base of your jaw? Down, down, down to each one of your forbidden places? I presume I will never know. But it won’t matter after I cut out his tongue. Next, I will break his bones and remove them one by one from his body while he watches helplessly. After his body has been dismembered and his head removed with a hacksaw, I will leave you both in a heaping pile of your own blood — along with his organs and intestines, of course. So, Catherine… My sweet, sweet Catherine… Please know that I love you with all of my heart. And until the day I die, I’ll be waiting for you.

With all the love that you’ve discarded, Jeremiah

Everyone has been on high alert. Recently there have been a total of three murders. All of which were all brutal and gut wrenching. But the thing that they had in common was the writings written in blood nearby the scenes. And as the police were piecing together the clues of what the writings could mean.

I was stuck in the very basement of the murderer. Chained to his bloody walls and left to sit in the mattress that was on the cold cement floor.

The day I went missing I heard the news constantly talking about my disappearance and trying to link it to the current events.

The murderer was “kind” enough to leave a tv down here.

But as all of the people that were murdered were my ex-boyfriends. Some began to speculate that I had something to do with it. And I was no longer a victim. I became a suspect.

Suddenly the door to the basement opened and he came through the door. His footsteps heavy on the poor wooden steps. Once he makes his last step. He turns to me and just…stares.

The man always keeps a mask on. The mask being a pic mask. He was extremely tall—almost inhuman. And he was very built. With tattoos covering each bulging muscle on his arms and up to his neck.

After looking him up and down, he walks over to me and kneels in front of me. I tried to scoot back. But where was I going to go?

Into the wall?

He leans in close. And then he reaches a hand out— bloody hand to be exact—and caresses my cheek. I cringe at the warm liquid and he cocks his head to the side.

I tried not to shake so much. But my body refused to listen to me. I didn’t want this guy to know he frightened me and feel like he has the upper hand. I don’t like to feel vulnerable. And suddenly he takes his other hand and rests it on my face. Doing the same action he did before.

“Pretty…so pretty. All mine”, he whispers. His tone of voice was soft yet deep and that mixture was…comforting.

He then gets up and looks down at me once more. “Beautiful as always.” And with that he went upstairs and left me alone. I didn’t realize how tense I became when trying not to shake in his presence until I let out a gasp that was mixed in with a sob. I slumped forward. Relieved as I thought it was going to be the end for me.

My heart beats with fear. But somehow it is also beating from the…affection he gave me. He has an intimidating aura. It frightened me. But it also…intrigued me. His voice was like honey. Warm, calming, sweet even. And I hated that feeling. Why did I feel this way? Was it because…he was strangely gentle towards me? I couldn’t understand.

But it made me want to know more about him and his intentions with me

I stand alone, in the middle of dark and moist woods where he brought me. Blindfolded, and gripping a tree as to not fall over. I hear rustling leaves all around me and I try to hone in on one. My heart stops as I hear one crinkles coming straight for me. I feel cold, damp, boney hands caress my face and remove the blindfold. In front of me I see i picnic blanket surrounded by trees and mist, I look all around for the person behind this and he’s nowhere to be scene. I sit down on the picnic blanket and look around again, this time, behind a thick tree I see a pair of restless eyes and shaggy hair. He realizes he’s been caught and slinks behind the tree only to step out again and start staggering over to me. He reaches me and puts his frigid hand on my chin as he bends down and pulls my face closer to his. His dry, cracked lips hit mine and time seems to freeze.

“I want to tear all your limbs apart And make a boquete of the broken parts. I’ll wrap them in bows of hanging rope And drown my mouth of all foul with soap.

So take this ring and I’ll love you forever In a grave we can roll together. You and I against all that is bad Fighting the cannibals and killer bats.

Say I do and I’ll build you a house Made of the bones of your ex spouse. We will marry under the blood moon With my knife trick I’ll make sure you swoon.

So…?”

“No!”