I killed again. Because I wanted to see how far you would bend.
The second one was different. Cleaner. Quicker. No balcony this time. No gravity to assist. Just intention. But the real experiment wasn't the body. It was you.
I placed the wrong story in your path deliberately. A false pattern. A misleading detail. A suggestion slipped gently into conversation. Just enough to tilt your conclusions.
You took it. You built an entire theory around it. And I watched you unravel beautifully. You stopped sleeping. You stopped eating properly. You started tracing invisible lines on napkins, on reports, on the edges of your own sanity. You think of me constantly now. I see it in your eyes when we speak.
You scan every word I say, every pause, every shift in tone. You are circling the truth. But not the right one. And I was happy. For a while. Because obsession looks good on you.
Then I noticed something. The way you look at him...Noah.
I have seen fear in your eyes. Confusion. Desperation. Suspicion. But this—
This is different.
When he speaks, you listen without flinching. When he doubts you, you don't recoil. When he steadies you, your shoulders lower.
I have never seen that expression directed at anyone. Not at the officers who dismissed you. Not at strangers. Not at me. It is softer. It is trust. And it is unbearable.
No.
No, this cannot happen.
You do not get to choose comfort elsewhere. You do not get to lean on him. I am the one who understands you. I am the one shaping the world around you. I am the reason you are awake at night.
Why are you looking at him like that? Why are you believing him?
He interferes constantly. Every time I push, he stabilizes you. Every time I fracture something, he rebuilds it. He questions your extremes. Grounds your panic. Pulls you back from the edge I so carefully lead you toward.
An obstacle. Worse...a variable I did not account for. I increased the pressure. Another body. Closer to your orbit. More personal. I altered the staging, sharpened the symbolism, left fragments that only you would notice. You broke again. But he— He stayed beside you. Told you to breathe. Told you not to jump to conclusions. Told you coincidence is not destiny.
And you listened. You listened to him.
The rage that followed was unfamiliar. Not wild. Focused. I cannot let him anchor you.
You need instability. You need doubt. You need to crack open fully before you understand that I am the only constant in your chaos. But he keeps saving you.
Why? Why are you trusting him? Why are you allowing him inside the space that belongs to me? You were mine before you knew it.
You are mine now. You will be mine when this ends.
He does not get to step into that.
I hate the way he looks at you.... steady, protective.
I hate the way you respond. I hate the calm he brings you.
He thinks he's helping. He thinks he's solving something. He has no idea he is standing between you and revelation.
This cannot continue. If you will not break from the pressure...
Then I will increase it.
More chaos.
More bodies.
More noise.
You need to lose everything stable before you see clearly. Even if that means removing him. Especially if it means removing him. Because no one gets to have you. No one gets to calm you. No one gets to be your certainty.
You were, are, and will be...
mine.
And if he keeps touching what belongs to me...
I will make sure he understands exactly who he is standing against.