"This is it," he said, his voice tight. "Are you ready?"Lisa took a deep breath. "I have to be."With one last glance at her friend, Lisa stepped out of the car. Misale gave her a tight nod before speeding off, needing to return to the wedding before anyone noticed his absence.The station was eerily quiet. The usual chatter and bustling activity one would expect were absent. There were only a few people milling about, and the distant rumble of an approaching train could be heard. The station itself was old, its red metal level crossing bridge a relic of a forgotten time. Lisa knew he would be up there, waiting for her.Her heart raced as she climbed the stairs, the metal creaking beneath her feet. She hadn't told anyone who her lover was, not even Misale. It was her secret, something sacred she kept to herself. Her friends had often speculated, but Lisa had been careful to keep his identity hidden. He wasn't the type to enjoy attention, and she respected that.As she reached the top of the bridge, she spotted him.He stood there, leaning casually against the railing, his back to her as he gazed out over the tracks below. The faint light of the setting sun cast a soft glow on his figure, making him seem almost ethereal.Without thinking, Lisa ran to him, her heart pounding with joy and relief. He turned just as she reached him, and in a moment, she was in his arms. She felt his warmth, the familiarity of his embrace, and for the first time that day, she allowed herself to feel happy.He kissed her, his lips pressing against hers in a way that sent a thrill down her spine. She could taste the slight metallic tang of his breath, but she didn't care. He was here. They were together."I missed you," she whispered, her voice trembling."I missed you too," he replied, though his voice was quiet, almost distant.He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching hers. "You should sit," he said, motioning to the low wall on the side of the bridge.Lisa frowned. "Sit? Why?""I have a surprise for you," he said with a small smile.Lisa hesitated. Surprises weren't exactly his thing, and the thought of sitting on the edge of a high bridge wasn't particularly appealing to her. But the promise of a surprise intrigued her, and despite the warning bells going off in her head, she sat down, her back to the tracks below."Okay, where's my surprise?" she asked, her voice playful.He smiled again, that same distant look in his eyes. "It's coming," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.For a moment, they sat in silence. Lisa felt her nerves beginning to fray. There was something off about the way he was acting. His eyes, usually warm and full of affection, were cold. His body, always comforting, seemed tense."Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned closer to her, resting his head against her chest, listening to the sound of her heartbeat. Lisa felt her pulse quicken, a sudden rush of anxiety washing over her.Then, without warning, hemoved.Lisa didn't realize what had happened until she felt the sharp, searing pain in her leg. She gasped, her eyes widening in shock as she looked down to see the long, thin blade in his hand. Blood poured from the wound, staining her pristine white dress."W-What are you doing?" she stammered, her voice trembling with terror.He didn't answer. His eyes were locked on hers, his expression unreadable. Then, in one swift motion, he slashed at her leg again.Lisa screamed, the sound ripping from her throat as she tried to stand. But her legs wouldn't support her weight. She collapsed against the bridge, her blood pooling around her as she struggled to comprehend what was happening.He was killing her.The wind was heavier now, like a blanket of pressure smothering Lisa's skin. It pushed against her wounds, amplifying the agony, making her body feel like a rag doll being twisted and broken for someone else's amusement. She wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but her voice was gone, swallowed by the pain, by the cruel cut he had made across her throat. No matter how much she willed her vocal cords to function, they remained silent, as if her body was betraying her one last time.The man, her lover—no, her tormentor—stood over her with that twisted smile, watching her suffer like she was a doll he could break and fix at will. The promises he'd made, the whispers of protection and love, had been lies. He was not her savior. He was a monster, one who took pleasure in her torment, in the way her body writhed on the cold metal of the bridge, the way her blood spilled like ribbons over the rusted iron and down toward the tracks below.Lisa's mind struggled to grasp the reality. **How had she not seen it? How could someone so close, someone she loved, be capable of such monstrous cruelty?** The pain was overwhelming, a constant pulse that radiated through her entire body. It was like fire and ice tearing her apart, and all she could do was pray that it would end soon.He moved again, his presence looming over her like a dark shadow. She felt his fingers touch her face, cold, unnaturally cold, as if he had no warmth left in his body. He was still smiling, still enjoying this. Lisa shuddered, trying to move away, but her body betrayed her again, too broken, too weak. He murmured something under his breath, words she couldn't make out, but the tone was low, satisfied.Then came the knife again.She tried to scream, but nothing came out. The blade pierced her forehead, a sharp, unbearable pain exploding in her skull. The pressure of it made her entire body seize up, her muscles contracting violently as if they were trying to escape the pain on their own. Her fingers clawed at the ground, her remaining leg kicking in helpless agony.And still, he wasn't done.His fingers, those same cold fingers, reached for her face. He touched her right eye with a gentleness that would have seemed tender in another context, but in this moment, it was horrifying. She tried to shut her eyes, to turn her head away, but he was too strong, and she was too weak.With a grotesque precision, he pulled at her eye, tearing it from its socket. The world blurred into darkness and light as her vision went haywire. She could feel it—feel the stringy nerves and flesh being severed—and the pain was indescribable. It was beyond anything she could have imagined. Her body convulsed, shaking violently on the bridge, but still, she could not scream. Only a wet, gurgling noise came from her throat, the blood pooling faster than she could swallow it.She tried to move, to escape this nightmare, but she only had one arm and one leg left, the others gone, severed by his relentless brutality. And even as she struggled, even as her body jerked in a grotesque dance of survival, he kept smiling, his joy only growing with each stab, each mutilation. The more he destroyed her, the more he seemed to come alive, his eyes shining with a manic light, his smile widening until it stretched across his face like a mask.When he went for her second eye, she almost welcomed it. Anything to stop seeing him. Anything to block out the sight of his bloodied face, his twisted smile. As he plunged the knife into her left eye, she felt the sharp, blinding pain, followed by darkness.But still, she could hear him. His breathing. The faint rustle of his clothes as he moved. The knife clinking softly as it touched the metal of the bridge. She could feel the warm, sticky sensation of her blood soaking her dress, her skin, the bridge beneath her. She was drowning in it.And yet, she was still alive.