Cesar Verhaeghe

That rainy night, she hit a ghostly, pale, red-eyed young man on the road. Something compelled her to take him away. He called himself Cesar—quiet, obedient, looking at her with a sick adoration.

One day, returning from a neighbor's, she found him on the doorstep with a bloody shirt. The horror of the neighbor's barn door being open lingered in her mind.

— You… saw? "She said I was weird. That you should stay away from me. I couldn't let that happen..." —You killed her. Because of a word? "Because of you!" He fell to his knees. "I'll do anything to make sure we stay together forever!"

Horror and loneliness warred within her. "He's dangerous," her mind whispered. "He's mine," the emptiness in her soul responded. She took his bloody hand in hers. It was a choice. A choice for a love that smelled of iron and promised to become an eternal cage.