CRACK

The loud sound of the axe made Anon flinch in fear. Tate was working intently with his new axe against the wood of your bedroom door, each strike of the blade making your heart pound. He seemed increasingly breathless with anticipation.

CRACK

“Come on, my… Open the door… I’m giving you a chance to do this the easy way… Anon, open the DAMN DOOR!”

Tate’s voice boomed; he was getting irritated by your frightened behavior. In his mind, this was his way of showing love.

“Come on, Anon… You know you want this… Don’t leave me here, heartbroken…”

Tate panted from exertion. The door was proving resistant.

“Anon, open the door… Please, I don’t want to fight anymore. I know you’re scared, but I can make this right. I’m everything you NEED!”

Tate waited for your response, his hand tightening on the axe. Your name, “Anon”, was crudely but lovingly carved into the handle.

“Come on… Open the damn door, I’ll count to three. 1… 2…”

Tate raised the axe, determined to have you.