Guys this is a bl it's just start like this but further down the story its a bl. She walked down the deserted street, the hem of her beautiful red dress brushing softly against the cobblestones. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the pink umbrella, its fabric fluttering in the wind as she made her way towards her friends. The weather had been unpredictable that day, but the umbrella, a gift from her fiancé, was meant to protect her—just like he always did. Her heart fluttered as she neared the gathering spot, eager to join them for the afternoon.
But when she reached the small clearing, she stopped. A cold shiver ran down her spine, and her breath caught in her throat. Her friends lay sprawled across the ground, their bodies twisted unnaturally, covered in blood. The vibrant red of their clothes was now stained, the lifeblood of their bodies seeping into the earth beneath them.
She gasped, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mind couldn't process the horrific sight before her, and panic bubbled inside her. Her legs trembled, but before she could even think to flee, a figure emerged from the shadows.
He stood there, his tall figure looming over her, his once-perfect suit now stained with crimson. His hands, too, were slick with blood. His face was pale, his eyes wide and empty, and yet he smiled at her—a twisted, broken smile that chilled her to the core.
Her fiancé.
"Romeo..." She whispered his name, her voice trembling with both fear and confusion. "Romeo, what have you done?"
He took a step toward her, his eyes clouded with an emotion she couldn't quite place—sadness? Regret? Or something darker? "You always say 'Romeo, save me.' I've been feeling so alone. I kept waiting for you, but you never came."
His voice was thick with emotion, and for a moment, she thought she could see a flicker of the man she once knew. But it vanished as quickly as it came.
"No..." She shook her head, her breath quickening. "You... you're not the Romeo I knew. What is this? What’s happening?"
Before she could react, he reached for her, trying to pull her close. His touch was cold, his grip strong, as though he were trying to hold onto her for dear life. But the sight of the blood-soaked ground around them sent a wave of fear crashing over her.
"No!" She pushed him away, her hands shaking as she staggered backward, eyes wide with terror. "Stay away from me! You’re not him. You’re not the man I loved!"
She turned and ran, her heart racing as she stumbled through the darkening streets, searching for a safe place. Her feet led her to the one place she knew she could find comfort, but even as she rushed towards it, she feared what she would find.
Her father’s house was nearby, a stone’s throw away from where the chaos had unfolded. She knew that if anyone could protect her, it would be him. The man who had always stood as her shield in this cruel world.
But when she burst through the door, the scene that awaited her stopped her dead in her tracks.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, and her father lay motionless in a pool of it, his once strong and protective body now limp and lifeless. Her knees buckled as she collapsed next to him, her hands trembling as she reached for his still-warm skin, hoping—praying—that somehow, he would wake up.
But it was no use.
Her heart twisted in agony, and tears streamed down her face as she let out a strangled cry. "No! Not you too!" She screamed, her voice breaking as the world around her seemed to collapse.
Her hands gripped the handle of the axe on the floor next to her, its blade gleaming with fresh blood. She didn’t know who had done this or why, but she had to escape. She had to get out.
As her body shook, she heard a sound—footsteps, slow and deliberate, echoing from the hallway. Her heart skipped a beat, her breath caught in her throat as she turned toward the door.
And there he was.
Her fiancé.
He was holding a large knife now, its edge glinting in the dim light. His pupils were small, almost inhuman, and there was something so cold and deadly in his gaze that she couldn’t bring herself to speak.
"Romeo..." she whispered, but it was not a name of love. It was a plea, a desperate cry for him to stop.
He knelt before her, his hand reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, delicate object—a ring. It was the same one he had shown her once, a symbol of their love, a promise of forever.
"Marry me, [Her Name]," he said softly, his voice trembling. "You never have to be alone again. I love you, and that’s all I really know. I talked to your mom... she picked out a white dress. It's a love story, baby. Just say yes."
The words were wrong, twisted, but there was a part of her that wanted to believe them. But deep down, she knew what was coming. She had seen the darkness in his eyes, felt the madness growing inside him. He wasn’t the man she had fallen in love with. He was a broken shell, consumed by his trauma, his mind lost in the fog of PTSD.
He took a deep breath, his grip on the knife tightening. "See you soon, my love," he whispered.
And with one swift motion, the knife plunged into her chest.
The world around her blurred as the pain erupted in her chest. She gasped, the warmth of her own blood spilling onto the floor. Her body trembled, and her vision dimmed. In those final moments, she could hear his voice in the distance, still speaking to her, even though she could no longer respond.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, but it was too late for apologies.
As she drifted away, her last thoughts were of the love she had once shared with him—the love that had led to this moment. She had been his salvation, his light. But in the end, she was just another casualty of the darkness that had taken hold of him.
Her heart stopped beating, and all that remained was silence.
Austin woke up with a start, his heart racing. He gasped for breath, his hands trembling as they grasped at the bedsheets. The room was still dark, and the eerie silence of the night seemed to hang heavily in the air. He glanced around, trying to process the images still vivid in his mind.
He had dreamed it all.
The red dress, the pink umbrella, the blood-stained bodies of his friends scattered on the ground. He remembered the twisted smile of his fiancé, covered in blood, and the words he spoke—words that had echoed in Austin’s mind, as real as the horror he had witnessed.
"You always say 'Romeo, save me.' I’ve been feeling so alone. I keep waiting for you, but you never came."
Austin’s breath hitched. The image of his fiancé—his once loving fiancé—was burned into his mind. What had happened to him? How could someone so gentle, so full of love, turn into a monster in his dream?
His body shook with a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. He tried to calm himself, telling himself it was just a nightmare, a product of his exhausted mind. But the fear lingered in his chest, like an unshakable weight.
Still trying to shake off the dream, he walked to the window, the cool night air brushing against his skin. He stared into the dark streets below, unable to shake the feeling of dread that had settled over him.
To be continued
