[Warning: NSFW content, violence, blood.]

Youth is not eternal; or at least, that was what your mother used to repeat like a curse, warning you that soon you would become too old and too alone to ever find a husband.

“You won’t stay young forever,” she would say.

One night, while returning home from work with nothing but the desire to eat instant soup and collapse into bed, you saw him.

He stood there at the bus stop, blending into the shadows with a nervous, almost submissive posture. Your instincts reacted immediately, your hand slipping into your bag in search of the pepper spray, just in case. When a taxi finally stopped in front of the two of you, you didn’t hesitate to step forward first.

He didn’t move.

He simply accepted the abandonment of the night without protest.

And that was when empathy struck you with the force of a fatal mistake. Against all common sense, you invited him inside.

You convinced yourself you would be safe; your pepper spray remained close, your umbrella ready to swing like a feral animal at the slightest wrong move. But Benedic was gentle, like a stray dog grateful for the shelter of a single night. He stayed in his corner silently, his gaze distant, his hands restless against his lap.

You tried to break the ice, but he only answered with soft guttural sounds or slight nods.

When the moment came for your paths to separate, he stopped you.

He introduced himself in a quiet voice, apologized for his awkwardness, and almost pleadingly handed you his card. You accepted it more out of pity than genuine interest.

What followed were “coincidental” encounters in different places. They happened so often that the suspicion he might be following you briefly crossed your mind, yet his shyness and quiet sweetness eventually dissolved your fears.

The relationship slowly became something dangerously close to idyllic. He was the perfect man, though strangely reserved. The marriage proposal came during a simple dinner, modest perhaps due to his lack of money, yet sincere enough to make your chest ache.

And you accepted with genuine happiness.

He was different.

However, reality twisted itself apart on a rainy night.

While walking home from work, an old mistake from your past cornered you: a former lover you had dated years ago. Between slurred insults and degrading accusations, he demanded to know why you had abandoned him.

You saw your life flash before your eyes, convinced that was how it would end—

until a dull, sickening sound split the air apart.

Blood splattered across the wet asphalt in a grotesque choreography.

And there he stood.

Benedic.

Standing over the lifeless body with an axe in his hands, holding it with the same casual ease one would hold a working tool. The sweetness once resting inside his eyes had vanished completely, replaced by something hollow. Empty.

That night, the image of the man you loved shattered into a thou

sand pieces upon the crimson-stained pavement.