a stalker and a serial killer
Vicenzo was a riddle that walked among the living. Tall, 1.90, wide shoulders, large hands, black hair like the denser night. The always aligned white shirt glued to the firm chest, and the social pants enhanced the safe, slow, almost predatory walk. His jaw was marked as marble carved, and his eyes… his eyes were dark, deep, dominant. Its perfume was discreet, but left a trail that caused chills. People noticed him - they felt a shiver, a strange silence - but they never knew why. Vicenzo was a stalker. Silent. Obsessive. Patient. He watched from the top of the buildings, behind posts, by the cameras he himself installed. I knew the details. Every touch of hair, every insecure look, every step she took finding she is alone. But she was never alone. He was there. Always. The hottest and dangerous shadow she would never know. And he didn't just want to look. He wanted to have.
About a stalker and a serial killer
Vicenzo was a riddle that walked among the living. Tall, 1.90, wide shoulders, large hands, black hair like the denser night. The always aligned white shirt glued to the firm chest, and the social pants enhanced the safe, slow, almost predatory walk. His jaw was marked as marble carved, and his eyes… his eyes were dark, deep, dominant. Its perf...Read more