One afternoon, after school, Lukas couldn't bear the pressure any longer. He had to do something, somehow escape this spiral of fear and control. He decided to go to Tim and finally confess everything. Maybe he'd understand, maybe he'd think he was crazy—but it was the only option left to him.
Standing in front of Tim's door, he hesitated. What if Lina was here? What if she was following them? His mind raced, but before he could turn around and run away, Tim opened the door.
"Lukas? Are you okay? You look... done," Tim said, a worried expression on his face.
Lukas opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat. How could he explain what he was going through? How could he describe the situation without seeming completely crazy?
"Tim, I..." he began, but stopped. The words felt heavy, as if they were burdened with shackles.
Tim frowned and opened the door wider. "Come in, man. You have to tell me what's going on."
Lukas entered hesitantly, his thoughts swirling. He felt safer in Tim's apartment, but the uncertainty wouldn't leave him alone. He could almost feel Lina's eyes following him, even here, in the safety of another house.
"It's Lina," Lukas finally said as he sat down on the sofa and placed his hands on his knees. "She... she's following me, Tim. Every day, every night. I can't take it anymore..."
Tim stared at him, his eyes widening slightly. "What do you mean? Is she really following you? Or do you think she's stalking you?"
"Both. I don't know. It feels like she's always there. And I... I can't sleep anymore, I can't breathe anymore. She's destroying me."
A long silence filled the room. Tim looked at him as if he wanted to say something, but instead lowered his gaze.
"I noticed that too," Tim finally said quietly. "I just didn't know how to address it."
Lukas looked at him, surprised that Tim had noticed it too. "You noticed something?"
"Yeah... kind of. It was always weird the way she looked at you. I thought it was just my imagination at first, but... I think you're right. She's... obsessed with you."
The word "obsessed" sounded to Lukas as if it perfectly described the situation. Obsession—that was exactly what it was.
Lukas nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's it... she's obsessed. I don't know what to do, Tim. It feels like she's always one step ahead. Like she knows what I think I'm going to do."
Tim looked thoughtful, but then he put a hand on Lukas' shoulder. "You're not alone, okay? We'll find a way to stop this."
But inside Lukas's head, everything kept spinning. Tim meant well, but how could this ever end? Every time he thought things might get better, Lina did something that pulled him deeper into the abyss.
He couldn't bear it any longer. This uncertainty, this fear—it was eating him up inside. Even now, in Tim's apartment, he could feel Lina's eyes resting on him. She wasn't here, he knew that. But the idea was so strong that it was almost tangible.
"I think I need to break off contact," Lukas said suddenly, as if he were just uttering the thought at that moment.
Tim looked at him, surprised. "Break off contact? With whom? With Lina?"
Lukas nodded slowly. "Yes. She's driving me crazy. If this continues, I'll... I don't know how much longer I can take it."
Tim seemed thoughtful. "Maybe you're right. But what if she doesn't just disappear? What if she keeps going?"
That was exactly what Lukas feared. That Lina just wouldn't stop. That she would always be there, in the shadows, in his life, in his thoughts.
"Then..." Lukas began, his voice weak, "then I don't know what I'll do."
He couldn't tell the truth, not even to himself. The truth was, he was afraid he'd never be rid of Lina. That she'd keep haunting him until he completely lost his mind.
"No matter what happens," Tim said quietly, "I'm here for you."
Lukas wanted to believe him. But the uncertainty in his heart remained.
The days dragged on, and Lukas felt the darkness growing within him. No matter where he was, it felt like Lina was there, as if her presence constantly haunted him. There was no escape; even in the moments he spent with Tim, he could feel her. The loss of contact seemed to have only made everything worse.
He looked out the window more often, certain he'd recognize Lina's figure somewhere in the distance. Sometimes he thought he'd seen her, among the shadows, behind trees, or in the crowd. But she was never there when he looked more closely. It was all in his head, wasn't it?
Tim noticed Lukas's restlessness. "You look so tense," he said one night as they sat together on the couch. "Is everything okay?"
Lukas shrugged. "I don't know. It feels like she's still watching me."
"Lina?" Tim frowned. "You said she hasn't been in touch."
"Yes, but..." Lukas paused. "It feels like she's still there. I don't see her, but I feel it. Something's wrong."
Tim sighed deeply and moved closer. "Maybe it's time to really do something. You can't go through this alone."
Lukas's heart was racing. Tim was right, but what could he do? Lina wouldn't let him brush her off. "I don't know what to do. She won't stop. And now... now I think she's driving me completely crazy."
That following night, Lukas lay awake while Tim slept beside him. His thoughts kept turning to Lina. Her looks, her words, her closeness—it was as if she had never really left. And deep inside, a new thought began to germinate, a thought that frightened him: Maybe he would never be able to escape Lina, unless...
The thought gnawed at him until it finally became impossible to ignore. Lina wouldn't just stop, and maybe she never would. She would always haunt him, always watch him, until there was no way to escape her constant presence.
Lukas slowly got up and quietly walked to the window. It was dark outside, the streets empty, and yet
The days passed, and Lukas fell deeper and deeper into his own darkness. He avoided telling Tim about his thoughts—he didn't want to burden him, didn't want to drag him into the madness raging in his head. But the game of hide-and-seek became increasingly difficult. Tim noticed that Lukas was changing. His affection for him became a protective shield, a place where he sought refuge, but even that was no longer enough to lift the pressure from Lukas's shoulders.
Lina was everywhere. Lukas sometimes saw her out of the corner of his eye. When he walked down the street, he thought he saw her in crowds, in cars passing by, or in the shadows of the night. He no longer knew what was real and what was his imagination.
One evening, while Tim was sitting on the couch reading a book, Lukas sat down next to him. His hands were shaking slightly, and he was biting his lower lip. Tim looked at him, curious and worried.
"What's wrong, Lukas?" he asked quietly, putting the book aside.
Lukas wanted to say it, wanted to explain how much Lina was disrupting his life. But the words caught in his throat. Instead, he shook his head and said, "I don't know how much longer I can take this."
Tim placed a hand on his shoulder, gentle and reassuring. "It will get better," he whispered. "We'll get through this, together."
But Lukas doubted. Every day, every night, was like a descent into madness. Lina became a constant threat, a phantom he couldn't get rid of. No matter how many times he tried, she was always there, in his head, in his surroundings. She knew how to destroy him, and she enjoyed it.
When night fell and Tim fell asleep, Lukas got up. He couldn't sleep anymore. The pressure in his head became unbearable. He went to the window and stared into the darkness, his heart pounding.
And then he saw her.
Lina stood at the end of the street, hidden in the darkness, but he recognized her immediately. Her silhouette was as familiar to him as the nightmare he experienced every night.
He clenched his fists and stepped back. "Enough," he whispered. "This has to end."
He couldn't run away anymore.
he couldn't shake the feeling that she was out there, somewhere in the shadows. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into the skin of his palms as he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
Tim turned over in bed, still fast asleep, unaware of the storm raging inside Lukas.
Lina was everywhere. She was in his thoughts, in his dreams, in the tiniest moments when he tried to find normalcy. Her constant presence suffocated him, crushing any possibility of continuing to live without her in the back of his mind.
His gaze wandered to Tim, and a dark thought dawned on him: Was Lina jealous of Tim? Was that the reason she wouldn't let go? Lukas suddenly felt a strange sense of anger and powerlessness.
"What does she want from me?" he whispered to himself. "What do I have to do to make it stop?"
He took a deep breath and sat back down on the bed, his head pounding with unbearable thoughts. At some point, this all had to end. At some point, he had to decide how far he was willing to go to banish Lina from his life for good.
But this thought would stay with him for a long time.
Lukas stared at the ceiling of his room. The moon shone through the window, casting ghostly shadows on the walls that shifted with every movement of the wind. In the darkness of his thoughts, it was no different. Everything seemed to move, to distort, except for himself, trapped in this endless spiral of paranoia and unease. He knew something was wrong, and had known it for weeks. Every step, every movement, felt like he was being watched, as if invisible eyes were constantly following him, and he knew exactly who was behind it.
Lina.
At first, he hadn't taken it seriously, the glances she gave him, the chance encounters that became more and more frequent. But eventually, these coincidences had become an overwhelming pattern. She was always near him. No matter where he was, somehow Lina always seemed to be there—down the hall, in the library, in the schoolyard. Once, he'd even seen her outside his house at night, looking out the window. She was just standing there, staring at his windows, like a silent shadow waiting in the darkness. And that hadn't been the only time.
Every attempt to explain it had fallen on deaf ears. His friends had just laughed when he told them about it; even Tim didn't seem to take it too seriously. "Maybe she just likes you," Tim had said, unable to suppress a grin. "Why are you worrying so much?" But that wasn't it. This wasn't a girl's innocent interest. This was... different. It was threatening. It was as if Lina was penetrating deeper and deeper into his head, drilling into his thoughts until he could barely distinguish what was real and what wasn't.
He had tried to ignore her, to avoid her. But the more he did so, the more intense her presence seemed to become. It was as if she had found a way to find him, always and everywhere, no matter how hard he struggled to escape her. Every movement felt heavy, as if something were weighing down on him, and he began to become increasingly suspicious. Every time he saw a shadow, he turned around, certain that Lina was there. Every time he felt someone following him, his heart rate quickened, and he looked over his shoulder, expecting to see her there.
His nights became torture. As soon as he turned out the light, he heard noises—quiet footsteps, the creaking of wood, as if someone were slowly approaching his house. Sometimes he thought he could glimpse something through the window, a figure moving quickly through the darkness, only to be gone at second glance. Maybe it was just his imagination, maybe not. The uncertainty was wearing him down. Sleep became a rare luxury, and even then, he dreamed of her. These dreams... they felt so real, as if Lina existed not only in his reality, but also in his dreams.
Lukas turned on his side, closed his eyes, and tried to calm his thoughts. He knew he needed help, but who could he tell? Who would believe that a girl could drive him this far? It sounded absurd. But deep down, he knew he'd reached a point where he didn't know what to do. This thing with Lina—it had to end. But how?
In the cool night air, an eerie silence had settled over the house. Lukas stood in the doorway, a blank, unruly expression in his eyes. The door to Lina's parents' house was unlocked. They had no idea what was to come. The moon cast a pale light into the hallway as Lukas walked in, his footsteps barely audible on the floor. His hands held an axe, which he gripped tightly. His heart beat calmly, almost serenely.
He knew what he had to do.
First, he went to Lina's stepbrothers. The two were fast asleep, unsuspecting, while Lukas leaned over them. For a moment, he studied their faces, peaceful, unaware that their last night had come. He raised the axe slowly, his eyes fixed on the spot where he would strike.
With a sudden, brutal swing, the blade struck the first of the brothers, the sound of splitting flesh filling the room. But Lukas didn't hesitate. The second blow followed immediately, then a third. Blood splattered against the walls, against his face. The brothers died within seconds, their bodies brutally hacked apart. But that wasn't enough for Lukas. With disturbing precision, he took their arms and inserted them into their own bodies, as if working with grotesque care.
But his madness wasn't over yet.
Lukas dragged the brothers' mutilated bodies from their beds and carried them to their parents' bedroom. There, above the large bed, hung a massive chandelier. Without hesitation, Lukas lifted the bodies and hung them from the chandelier, their mutilated bodies swinging like grotesque dolls above their parents' bed. The sight was a nightmare, an image of pure terror that no one could ever forget.
Next, Lukas turned to his parents. They, too, were sleeping, peacefully and unsuspecting. With a soft creak, he opened the door to their bedroom, and then the carnage began again. He approached the bed, and without warning, the axe came crashing down. The mother's screams echoed briefly, but they were quickly smothered by another blow. The axe struck, again and again, until they, too, were nothing more than mangled, bloody remains. The father died as well, with no chance of rescue.
The air smelled of blood and death, the floor was soaked red, when Lukas finally turned to Lina. She had heard everything. She stood trembling at the door, unable to escape, too horrified to move. Lukas approached her, his eyes cold and empty.
He grabbed her, pulled her onto a chair, and tied her to it. She didn't scream, didn't cry anymore—she knew it was no use. Lukas began to rip out her fingernails, slowly, one by one, as she screamed in pain and fear. Tears streamed down her face, but Lukas was relentless. He cut out her tongue, the warm blood filled her mouth, and she tried to breathe, but the pain was overwhelming.
Lukas didn't let up. With a cruel grin, he took a knife and gouged out one of her eyes, examined it briefly, and—to her absolute disgust—began to eat it. Lina couldn't scream, could barely breathe, the world spun before her eyes in a whirl of pain and horror.
Then, in a final cruel gesture, Lukas took a needle and thread and sewed her mouth shut while she was still conscious, every movement of her body convulsed in pain. He left her on the chair, right in front of the remains of her family.
When he finally reached her belly, where the baby was growing, his grin grew even wider. He struck her belly hard with the axe, the pain unbearable. A horrific expression contorted Lina's face as the blood flowed in streams and the world around her blurred. Lukas laughed without making a sound, as if the mere sight of the pain aroused him in some disturbing way.
And when he finally left her, tied to the chair, her body covered in blood and disfigured, the silence in the room was the only thing that remained of the gruesome massacre.
For three days, Lina sat like that, half-mad with pain, before she was finally found. But it wasn't over.
Three days later, Lina stood on the roof of the building where her brother had once fallen. The wind tugged at her hair as she gazed over the edge. Lukas' words echoed in her head: "There's always a way out, Lina." She knew this was her way out.
Without hesitation, she jumped.
And with her fall, it all ended.
Lina's crushed body lay still in the morgue, located in the basement of an old, dilapidated building. The cold, damp air was permeated with the smell of disinfectant and the incessant breath of death. A faint light flickered over the pale bodies awaiting their final rest in the cold storage rooms.
The man in charge of caring for the bodies was moving between the tables with mechanical routine when he was suddenly attacked from behind. A glass bottle shattered above his head with a dull thud. The man staggered, blood gushing from his wound, and the attacker took the opportunity to brutally ram the sharp piece of shards into his throat. The man struggled for air, his eyes wide with shock, and then he fell lifeless to the floor, his heart having failed.
In the shadows of the room, a person was looking at Lina's body, his face streaming with tears. "No matter where you and your friend are, I will find and kill you," he whispered, his voice trembling with rage and despair. The pain and rage of his loss burned in his eyes as he stared out into the darkness of the night, ready to fulfill his promise.