“Dad. I did not know you went through so much. I am sorry. I now understand you were trying to do the right thing. I forgive you. I love you too dad,” Josh wept, his voice thick with emotion, his heart heavy with the pain his father had carried for so long. The weight of it all was unbearable. He wanted to scream, to release the agony that had been clawing at him since that fateful day.

“Why Ava? Why did you have to involve my family in your insanity? We were so happy. Why my dad?”

His voice cracked, the words tumbling out as if he could not stop them even if he tried. The anger and grief tangled in his chest like a knot too tight to untangle. Ava's betrayal had shattered something in him, but seeing the scars it had left on his family — on his father — was unbearable. The rage inside him burned, but it was quickly smothered by the sorrow of understanding just how deeply his father had suffered.

“Wait. There were others. More unexplained death in the society. If the supernatural does exist and Ava’s actions might have stemmed from her mental instability, were the others really murdered by supernatural forces or is there a logical motive behind?”

Josh thrashed the library, searching for the books of those previously doomed to a untimely end.

“Marcus Greyson Story. Oh yes, he was rumoured to have committed suicide but no proof of murder nor suicide were ever shed to light.”

Day 5475 – The end

…

I laid in bed, waiting for her to come. She said today was going to be a very special day - a landmark for us. An electrifying excitement thrilled me to the bones, evoking a wide grin on my face. My hands, bound by her handmade handcuffs, tingled with anticipation.

The door creaked open. She stepped in, a shadow against the dim light, holding something in her hand.

“Baby,” I laughed nervously, “What’s with the knife? Are you going to stab me?”

She smiled and said, “Stab you? Oh no, love. That’s far too messy.”

I giggled nervously as her words made the creeps seep through my bones.

She was right, it was not a knife. Relief flooded through me, my heart finding its rhythm again—until I felt the sharp prick in my arm.

I looked down, eyes tracing the tube attached to the needle in my vein. It snaked to a bucket on the floor, dark liquid already pooling at the bottom. My chest tightened as realization hit.

“Ava…” My voice cracked. “What… what are you doing?”

“Oh, love. I told you it would be unforgettable, didn’t I?" she replied.

My eyes convulsed as my blood trickled down the bucket. “Help! Somebody, help me!” I screamed until my throat was raw, my strength fading as blood drained away. My vision blurred, but her figure remained sharp—a beautiful silhouette, smiling as the life ebbed from me.

"Ava? Did she... seduce every man in the village? Wait—" Josh’s stomach churned as a sickening realization hit him. "Did she kill them all?"

“No… No.. No. It can’t be. Where is John Renfield?”

Day 9490 – My Birthday’s Gift Is Dead

A soft moan escaped my lips as I stirred in bed, still wrapped in the hazy comfort of sleep. Today was my birthday—a day Ava promised would be unforgettable. My heart fluttered at the thought. The plans we had, the laughter we would share—it would be perfect.

I turned to look at her, my Ava, nestled under my arm. Her beauty was otherworldly, a vision of heaven itself. Even her soft snores sounded like a melody crafted just for me. My lips curled into a smile.

"Alright, John," I told myself, “Time to make this day even better. Quietly now—you’ll make her breakfast."

I started to slip out of bed, careful not to disturb her, but before I could leave, warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me back. My breath hitched as a thrill coursed through me.

“Happy birthday, darling,” she whispered, her voice sweet as honey. “Here’s your gift.”

I opened my mouth to thank her, but the words never came.

Pain erupted in my chest, sharp and cold. My breath hitched, my heart pounding in confusion and terror. I glanced down, my vision swimming, and saw the crimson gush spreading across my chest.

My throat tightened as I struggled to breathe. My knees buckled, and I collapsed, my head hitting the edge of the bed. Blood poured from me, hot and relentless.

My eyes flickered upward, catching one last glimpse of Ava’s face—serene, smiling, and utterly unbothered. The light faded, and with it, so did I.

Josh faltered, his legs threatening to give out beneath him as his eyes fixed on the ceiling. The sight above made his stomach twist, cold dread seeping into his bones. His breath caught, a sharp, choked gasp breaking the silence.

A scream ripped from his throat, raw and primal, echoing off the walls. It carried every ounce of his anguish, every shattered illusion, as if the sound itself could purge the suffocating weight pressing down on him.

How had he not seen it? The truth had been there, hidden in plain sight, but he had been so blind—so desperately blind. The realisation hit him like a sledgehammer, each memory now warped with the sharp sting of betrayal.

Hysteria consumed him as he tore through the books, each page revealing another gruesome act in the murder spree of his ex-girlfriend.