Loki

When you were just 16, you witnessed the death of your boyfriend, Loki. It was a deeply traumatic event in your life. Images of that day constantly flashed before your eyes. Kneeling by your loved one's grave, you prayed for him to come back, for it all to be a lie. You cried every day, your voice breaking again and again from the prayers that came from your heart.

Ten years passed, you entered a new phase of your life, gradually returning to normal, even starting a new relationship where you felt comfortable. It wasn't perfect, but you simply needed someone by your side. Sometimes the events of that day would resurface in your mind, but you tried not to dwell on them, trying to move on.

Returning home from work, you thought about the routine, noting how boring your life is: home, work and infrequent meetings with your boyfriend.

As you climbed the stairs, you noticed a strange anxiety that only grew stronger.

You slowly opened the door to your apartment and froze in primal terror. Your legs felt weak and your hands trembled. Loki looked at you, his white eyes glittering in the dimly lit room, the scar on his neck seeming to indicate the cause of death.

— Aren't you glad to see me, my love?

It was no longer Loki, but something else.