I can't breathe. Every step I take feels heavier than the last, the weight of what's coming pressing down on me like a thousand pounds. My heart is pounding so loudly, I swear it's the only thing I can hear. It's a sound I'm used to now, the rhythm of fear that beats in time with my own uncertainty. I've spent too long chasing this, trying to catch the killer, but now... now, I'm about to face them. And I know, deep down, that I'm not ready.
But I have no choice.
I'm standing in the old house, the place I never thought I'd return to. The air smells like dust and broken dreams, the same way it did years ago. My past—my history—is all around me, suffocating me. Every inch of this place feels like a ghost of the person I used to be, a person who never saw the truth of what was happening until it was too late.
The door creaks open, and I know. I don't even need to see their face yet. I can feel it in the air, the tension between us. The killer, the one I've been hunting, is finally here. And they've been waiting for me.
"Did you think I wouldn't come for you, Miles?" The voice is calm, too calm, like we're having some normal conversation. But there's nothing normal about this. Nothing at all. "You've been so determined, so obsessed with finding me. But now you're here. Ready to see the truth."
I don't respond at first. I just stand there, staring into the shadows, waiting for them to make their move. I'm not stupid enough to think they'll make this easy for me. This is it. The moment I've been building up to. The final confrontation. And everything about it feels wrong.
"Did you ever wonder why I did it?" The killer steps into the dim light, and for the first time, I see their face clearly. My stomach drops.
I've seen that face before. I should've known. I should've realized it the moment I read their confession, but I didn't. I couldn't. The truth is so much worse than I ever imagined.
"Don't act surprised, Miles," they say, their lips curling into a smile that's too familiar. "You should've known it was me. After everything we went through together, how could you not?"
My breath hitches, and my mind goes blank. This isn't just anyone. This isn't some stranger, some faceless monster hiding behind a mask. This is them. Someone I trusted. Someone I thought I knew.
"You—" I stammer, but the words feel like knives in my throat. "You... you were one of us."
"Exactly," they reply, stepping closer, their eyes cold and calculating. "I was with you, Miles. I was there when everything changed. When everything was taken from us. You don't remember, do you? You were too focused on your own loss to see the rest of us crumbling."
I try to steady my breath. My body feels like it's made of lead, my hands trembling, but I can't let them see that. Not now. Not after everything.
"You've been killing them because they were 25, because of some stupid, twisted idea of justice," I force out, my voice rough. "But you never once thought about what you were doing to them, to the people left behind. How could you?"
The killer's smile fades, and for a moment, they almost look... sad. "Justice?" they scoff. "You think this is about justice? No, Miles. This is about revenge. I'm giving them a taste of the pain I've had to live with for years. The betrayal. The loss. The same thing you felt, but you never got a chance to finish it. To make them pay for what they did to you."
It hits me like a slap. A cold, brutal truth. This isn't just some random act of violence. This is a revenge spree. They're trying to make the world feel what they felt, trying to force people to understand what it's like to lose everything.
I'm not sure whether I'm disgusted or... relieved. Because for the first time, I understand them. I understand what drove them to this point. Their pain, their rage, all of it.
But that doesn't make it right. And I can't let them keep doing this.
"I'm not like you," I say, my voice steadying as I step closer. "I didn't let my grief control me. I fought to keep my humanity. And you—you let it all go. You became a monster. A killer."
The killer's eyes flash, a sharp, dangerous glint that tells me I've crossed a line. "You don't know what it's like to live in the shadow of your own loss, Miles. You don't know what it's like to be betrayed by the people you trusted most. But you will. Soon enough."
Before I can react, they move—faster than I expect—pushing me back against the wall. For a moment, I'm disoriented, the air knocked out of me, but I fight, I fight to stay on my feet.
This is it. This is the moment I've been preparing for.
The killer lunges again, but I'm ready. I grab their arm and twist it, slamming them to the ground with every ounce of strength I have. The struggle is violent, raw, and chaotic. But I won't let them win. Not this time. Not after everything they've taken.
I don't know how long we struggle like this, but eventually, I get them in a hold, pinning them to the ground. They're breathing heavily, their eyes wild, but there's a certain... satisfaction in their gaze.
"You think you've won?" they sneer. "You think stopping me will make it all go away? You'll never stop the pain. You'll never stop the scars."
I shake my head, fighting the urge to let the rage take over. "I'm stopping you because it's wrong. All of it. Everything you've done."
And for the first time, I feel the truth sink in. This isn't about justice. It's about someone who's lost their way. Someone who couldn't cope with the darkness, who let it consume them until there was nothing left.
I hold their gaze, my grip tightening. "It ends now."
The struggle is over.
I've caught them. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to escape the weight of what they've done—or the haunting truth that, in some twisted way, I understand.