STOCKHOLM

R U N E

This is it.

I know this is it this time.

I’ve observed her long enough to know that she’s the one.

Selene Reyes. Her name flows off my tongue like honey from a jar, sweet and addictive.

My little moon.

This time, she will surely be the last one. The other women were simply not strong enough, lacking the necessary heart I’m missing. But I am confident that she has what it takes. I will see to it personally.

I slip on the mask, the cool hard plastic caresses only on the left side of my skin. I feel the weight of it on my face, the muffled sound of my own breathing in my ears. Through the eye holes, I catch a glimpse of the lights in her house flickering on, casting a warm, eerie glow through the windows.

The anticipation builds inside me as I imagine her inside, unaware of my presence. It’s October 1st, the first day I finally get to take my little moon home. The shadows dance on the walls, whispering secrets of what is to come. The air is heavy with a sense of foreboding, as if the darkness itself is anticipating the unfolding of my sinister plan.

Every step I take towards her door feels like a step deeper into a twisted nightmare. The silence of the night is broken only by the sound of my own footsteps, echoing ominously in the empty streets. My heart pounds in my chest, a steady rhythm of anticipation and excitement, fueled by a darkness that consumes me.

As I approach the main entrance of her complex, a shiver runs down my spine. The mask, my disguise, becomes more than just a physical barrier. It is a symbol of my true self, the embodiment of my dark desires. Behind it, I am transformed into something else entirely, something sinister and unpredictable.

The night is mine, and as I step into her world, the darkness consumes us both.