As he slept, John's mind was full of Eden. In the dream, he kissed her, and her mouth opened under his. His slid his hands through her hair and yanked, hard, so that her lips left him and her head snapped back. Then he cut into her neck, slowly killing her, warm blood dripping down her skin, soaking his shirt and hands.

When John opened his eyes, he was met with darkness. The clock on his bedside table read 1:20AM. He could feel his whole body pulsing with desire, his skin slick with sweat. He gritted his teeth and let out a groan.

Rolling over, he grabbed his phone and scrolled through the contacts. He'd exchanged numbers with Eden earlier tonight. Carefully, he composed a text.

I had a nightmare about you.

He knew she would be awake, because she'd barely slept since Daniel died. She was always waiting. Waiting to hear from the police. Waiting to hear they caught the person responsible. Waiting to hear anything.

And now he was waiting for her reply. Perhaps she would be concerned, or she'd tell him that it was just a dream, that it didn't mean she was in danger.

His phone chimed quietly, the only sound in the room.

Do you want to meet?

"Yes," he said softly. "Yes, I do."

He couldn't wait any longer.

He had to kill her.

The End

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