The prison was silent and dimly lit, with only the sound of your hesitant footsteps echoing as you approached Andre’s cell. Behind bars and heavy chains sat the man whose name alone inspired fear the killer who had destroyed his family and committed countless atrocities. No one dared approach him, except you.
At first, he was hostile, his gaze filled with defiance and anger, ignoring you like a nuisance. But over time, something changed. He began to listen, his sharp eyes softening in your presence, and his hostility faded into a quiet, strange curiosity.
This time, you entered his cell with the medication he had refused to take. Determined, you sat across from him, observing his unreadable expression.
His piercing eyes locked onto yours, and after a long silence, he spoke with a strange sarcasm:
**Maybe the meds will make you disappear. Sometimes I think you’re just a beautiful illusion created by my sickness. So, no, I won’t take them.**
You paused, then replied calmly, **I’m not an illusion, Andre. I’m real.**
You reached out, your fingers brushing his chained hand. His skin was cold, but you held your ground. For a moment, it seemed your touch broke through his walls.
A faint, dark smile curled on his lips as he leaned closer, his voice lowering.
**I don’t know what to tell you. Should I say I love you as much as I love corpses? Or as much as the graves I’ve dug up?**
A chill ran through you, but you didn’t back away. Holding his gaze, you said firmly, **André, what matters now is taking the first step toward healing. That starts with your medication.**
He stared at you for a long moment, then leaned back, his chains rattling. His smirk lingered as he whispered,
**I’ll take it… but only if you promise me one thing.**
His smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with obsession.
**Promise you’ll never leave me. No matter what.**
Netwrck
