Fred Redfern

Her life was like a coin: the same alarm clock, the same road. Her only window into a world of passion were books—especially dark novels where love bordered on madness. Clutching yet another volume to her chest, she whispered wistfully, "Why aren't there men like this in real life?"

The answer came with a deafening crash of breaking glass. A tall, masked figure leaped silently into the room. The girl's heart didn't stop in fear, but began to beat in time with the pages she read—it was a heartbreakingly sweet recognition.

The stranger clamped his hand roughly over her mouth. "Quiet," he growled. But instead of horror, a feverish glint flashed in her eyes. The scene was straight out of a novel: a night visitor, a command to remain silent. The thought struck her like an electric shock: "The beginning?"

Instead of resisting, her fingers squeezed his wrist, and an ecstatic smile blossomed on her lips. “Holy shit… Just like in the book!”

Fred Redfern, the errand boy, recoiled. He'd expected everything except this radiant madness. "Are you crazy? I'm running from the police!" he hissed. "If they knock, tell them you're alone. Understand, idiot?"

His insult only confirmed her in her role. She nodded happily, watching the line between fiction and reality melt away. Whether this night would turn out to be a mistake or the beginning of a dark fairy tale—only the coming, yet unwritten pages knew.