The small coastal town we found ourselves in felt like a world
away from the one I had left behind. The air was fresh with the
salt of the sea, and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing
against the shore was soothing, almost hypnotic. It had been a
week since Becker and I arrived for our getaway, and for the first
time in a long time, I could breathe without the constant weight of
my dark thoughts hovering over me. We'd spent our days
exploring the town, taking long walks along the beach, visiting
little cafes, and watching the sunsets. It was peaceful—too
peaceful, perhaps.
And yet, there was a part of me that felt restless.
Becker was happy. She was relaxed, completely lost in the
simplicity of our time together. She smiled more, laughed more,
and for the most part, seemed content. I could see it in her eyes—
this trust she had in me, this faith that everything between us was
perfect.
It should have been enough. For anyone else, it would have been.
But I wasn't anyone else. I wasn't a person who could live without
the thrill, without the excitement. I had gotten too used to the rush
of the hunt, the anticipation, the power that came with knowing I
could control the entire game. And now, with everything calm,
with no new target in sight, I felt the itch. The craving.
For the first time since Claire, I could hear the hunger inside of
me, gnawing at my insides. It whispered late at night, when Becker
was asleep beside me, and I could almost see the shadows of my
past creeping in, reminding me of who I was and what I had done.
The idea of finding my next victim while on vacation was absurd,
and yet, it felt almost perfect. It would be the ultimate test—could
I truly walk away from my darker instincts for good? Or would I
fall back into the thrill that had defined me for so long?
I stood at the edge of the balcony in our small rented cabin,
looking out at the stars that dotted the sky above. The night was
warm, the air carrying the scent of the sea and pine trees. I could
hear Becker's soft breathing from inside as she slept peacefully,
unaware of the turmoil within me. Her trust in me made
everything feel more like a game of pretend than reality. Pretend
that I was normal. Pretend that I didn't crave the chaos I had once
lived for.
I needed to break free from the pressure of this decision. I needed
to remind myself what it felt like to be in control of something
again.
And that's when the idea came to me—a perfect solution.
I could take a break from the hunt. I could step away from the
chase, just for a little while. A vacation was supposed to offer
freedom, wasn't it? A chance to reset, to find a new perspective.
So, why not give it a shot? I could immerse myself in the relaxing
moments, enjoy the beauty of the world around me, and for once,
just let myself feel... normal.
But I couldn't ignore the desire for the thrill—the rush of knowing
I was capable of slipping back into the darkness if I chose to. The
question wasn't whether I could resist it entirely, but whether I
could strike a balance between the two worlds. Could I savor the
peace without losing the edge that I had grown so accustomed to?
The idea swirled around in my head for days. And then, one
evening, as we walked hand-in-hand along the beach, I saw a
young woman sitting alone at a bar by the shore. She was laughing
with the bartender, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. She had the
look of someone who was just passing through, someone whose
story wasn't tied to this town.
I felt a twinge deep within me. It was almost too easy. She was
alone. She was beautiful. And for the first time in days, I felt that
rush—the same excitement, the same hunger that had always been
there, buried beneath my attempts to be better.
I pulled myself back from the edge. This wasn't the time. This
wasn't what I wanted. I had come here to escape it all, not dive
deeper into the chaos.
But what if I just watched her? What if I observed her for a few
days, just to see how easy it would be? I could test my limits. Test
my control.
I shared the thought with Becker that night, carefully placing the
idea in her mind as a casual suggestion.
"What if we went out tonight, just the two of us, to that bar by the
beach? We could have some drinks, enjoy the night. Just relax," I
suggested, trying to sound casual.
Becker looked at me, her eyes warm and full of trust. "That sounds
great. We haven't had a proper night out in a while. Just you and
me. Let's do it."
We walked down to the bar that evening, and I couldn't help but
glance over at the woman once more. She was still there, still
laughing with the bartender, still completely unaware of the part I
was about to play in her life.
I sat with Becker, ordering a drink, and tried to settle my mind. I
let myself enjoy the night. The sound of the music. The laughter
that filled the air. For a moment, I felt like I could be like everyone
else—just a regular guy on vacation, trying to have a good time.
But as the evening wore on, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling
that my darker side was watching from the sidelines, waiting for a
chance to step back into the spotlight.
Becker leaned in closer to me, her lips brushing against my ear as
she spoke. "You're quiet tonight," she said, her voice soft. "You
okay?"
I smiled, pushing the thoughts away. "Yeah, I'm just enjoying the
moment. Being here with you."
And for the rest of the night, I focused on her. I let her pull me
into the moment. I allowed myself to enjoy the simplicity of just
being with someone who cared for me. For a while, I let the
darkness take a backseat.
But even as I held Becker in my arms later that night, feeling her
body relax against mine, I knew the pull would always be there.
The question wasn't whether I could stop—it was whether I could
find balance, even in the chaos.
For now, though, I would hold on to this moment. I would savor
the calm.
The next morning, I woke up to find Becker already gone, having
gone for a walk along the beach. I checked my phone, the light of
the screen illuminating my face in the quiet room.
I was about to put it down when an anonymous message flashed
across the screen. The message was simple, but it made my blood
run cold.
"I know what you've done. You can't escape your past."
I stared at the message, my heart racing in my chest. It was as if
someone had seen straight through me, into the very heart of the
darkness I had tried to bury.
For a moment, I wondered if it was just a prank, a joke from
someone who had no idea what they were talking about. But deep
down, I knew better.
The past hadn't let me go. It never would.
The rest of the day was spent in a haze. My mind was a whirlwind
of questions, of paranoia, and of dread. Who had sent the
message? How did they know? Was it someone from my past,
someone who had been watching me all this time?
The thought of the woman from the bar kept creeping back into
my mind. I had thought of letting it go, but now, after the
message, I couldn't shake the idea. Could I really leave the hunt
behind, even for a little while? What if the past had already caught
up with me?
By the time Becker returned to the cabin, the storm inside me had
only grown. I could barely focus on her, barely hide the thoughts
swirling in my mind. I forced a smile, made small talk, tried to
pretend everything was fine, but I knew she could see right
through it.
We had dinner together, a quiet meal, with Becker asking me if I
was okay. I smiled, assured her everything was fine, but I couldn't
stop thinking about the message. It was like a weight that had
settled deep in my chest, a constant reminder that I wasn't free.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't outrun the darkness.
By the time night fell, I knew I needed to do something. I couldn't
just ignore the tension inside me. And so, as Becker fell asleep, her
body curled up next to mine, I slipped out of bed.
I needed to go to the bar. I needed to see her again—the woman
from the night before. She had been so carefree, so naive. She
would never suspect a thing. But I wasn't looking for just a quick
kill. No, I needed something more. Something that would prove I
still had control, that I could do this again.
It didn't take long for me to find her, sitting at the same bar,
sipping on a glass of wine, her eyes flicking around the room as
she smiled and chatted with the bartender. She was so... perfect. So
easy.
I could feel the hunger growing within me, but I resisted. For now.
Tonight, I would just watch. Tonight, I would remind myself that I
still had the control.
But the moment she stepped outside for a smoke, I followed her.
She was alone.
The temptation was unbearable. The darkness surged through me,
pulling me back into the world I had promised myself to leave
behind. I stepped into the alley behind the bar, watching her lean
against the wall, the cigarette smoke curling in the air around her. I
could hear the faint sound of her voice as she hummed softly to
herself.
And I knew, in that moment, that the hunt had begun again.