He knew how you felt. He saw it in your eyes, he saw it in how you were overly obedient to every demand and request he made.
He knew what he was doing would work.
You came home with a box full of campaign goodies, all in Kai’s favor. Setting them down on the kitchen counter, you wondered…where was he? He texted you, expecting you back as quickly as possible. Wouldn’t he be waiting for you the second you walked through the door?
The silence was terrifying.
“Kai?” You hesitantly opened the basement door, quickly shutting it behind you when the very distinct sound of footsteps from nowhere sent you into flight mode.
Your heart still racing, you examined the basement. Nothing. No Kai. You snuck into his room to find his perfectly made bed…with his obnoxious clown mask set near the edge of the bed that was closest to you.
You didn’t notice when we walked in behind you.
But you noticed when he closed the bedroom door. He clasped his hands on your shoulders and leaned in close, and he whispered in your ear.
“I think you know where this is going, Y/N. Get on the bed.”
My Type is Homicidal 