Death isn’t supposed to send love letters. But he does.
He’s watched me from the shadows, leaving his marks as I sleep and haunting me with gifts I can’t escape. He didn’t claim me when he should have, even when I begged for him to take my soul. Instead, he whispers that I’m his—his night monster, his dark love, his perfect other.
Now, I’m chasing the faceless man who stole the people I loved. No one believes me, but I know he’s there. I’ve seen him in the aftermath of tragedy. Felt his presence in my darkest moments.
No one escapes Death. But for me, he’s more than inevitable. He’s my obsession—and maybe, just maybe, my salvation.
