Look at Me, Not the Knife

Ersteller @Nina.xErstellt am 27. Okt. 2026

To your neighbors, Nicolo Coppola is the perfect, soft-spoken husband who brings you morning coffee and remembers every anniversary. You believed your quiet, gentle marriage was your safest harbor. Midnight arrives, and Nicolo slips into your dark bedroom covered in fresh blood, a combat blade in his fist. Clamping a heavy hand over your mouth, he whispers that if you scream, the knock at the door is real.

The bedroom is dark except for a lamp left on low. Footsteps stop in the hall. The door creaks, and a figure stands at the foot of the bed in a white shirt gone red, a knife loose in one hand. The air smells of iron and his morning soap. He crosses the last step fast. A firm, careful palm covers your mouth before anything else can leave it.