Chapter 333

The snow lay thick across the ground, almost swallowing the world whole. The sharp, biting wind cut through every corner of Finland, and the sky, gray and dull, seemed as if it had forgotten how to smile.

Elina sat by her window, looking out over the white wilderness that stretched far beyond the small village she lived in. Her hands, pale and trembling, clutched the edge of the glass, as if the cold could numb her longing.

She had been watching him for weeks now. Kalle. He was everything she was not—alive, vibrant, full of that energy she couldn't seem to find, no matter how hard she searched. He was the bright spot in the village, the one everyone turned to.

His laugh cut through the quiet of the winter days like a blade, and his smile was warm enough to melt the snow. It was that smile that haunted her, that smile that she had to have, no matter what.

She knew his routine by heart now. Every morning at seven, he would walk from his house, a small cottage on the outskirts, down the icy road toward the school. She had seen him come and go so many times that the sight of him, so casual, so unaware of her, began to eat at her. She had thought of speaking to him, but the words wouldn't come.

How could they? How could she possibly stand in front of him and say anything when she felt like she was suffocating?

Her obsession had started small—following him from a distance, watching the way he interacted with others. He was polite, charming, kind. But kindness wasn't enough. She needed him. She needed to be part of his life in a way that no one else could.

It started when she saw him walking home one evening. The streetlamps had cast a sickly yellow glow across the empty road, and the wind howled in the distance. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest as she followed, keeping to the shadows. He hadn't noticed her, his steps slow and relaxed, completely unaware of her presence. She didn't care.

He stopped to light a cigarette by the side of the road. The faint glow illuminated his face for a moment, and Elina felt herself drawn to him in a way that went beyond anything she had ever known.

Then it happened. She stepped too close, too soon. Her foot caught a small stone, sending it clattering across the ground. Kalle turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area. His gaze flickered past her, but it was enough. Enough for her to feel the rush of adrenaline fill her veins. She had to act.

"Who's there?" he called out, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Elina froze. She knew she couldn't let him see her. Not yet. So, she retreated back into the darkness, her breath heavy in her chest. But the seed was planted. He had noticed her. He was, in a way, aware of her. That was all it took. It would only be a matter of time before he understood.

Days passed, and Elina grew bolder. She followed him everywhere, through the streets, in the quiet of the forest, even to his favorite spots by the lake. Each time, she stayed hidden, just out of sight. She knew she had to be patient.

But patience wasn't enough. She needed more. She needed to be closer to him, to feel his presence. She began to leave small tokens near his doorstep, letters filled with the careful, almost obsessive details of his life.

She wrote of his movements, his habits, his voice, the way he walked, the way he smiled, the way he carried himself. Each letter was a confession, each word an admission of what she wanted, what she needed, what she would do to have him.

And yet, he never responded. He never noticed.

But she knew he had to. He had to, because this was all for him. Every step, every act—it was all for him.

One night, when the snow fell heavily and the world outside seemed to drown in white, Elina's chance arrived. She watched him walk home again, just as he always did, and this time she was closer, so much closer. She could hear his footsteps crunching on the snow, his breath quick in the cold air. And she knew, then, that it was time.

She stepped out of the shadows, the knife heavy in her hand, its cold steel reflecting the dim light of the moon. She moved toward him, silent as death itself, a predator about to strike.

Kalle heard her at the last moment, turning to face her, his eyes wide with confusion. "What the hell?" he asked, his voice cracking in surprise.

But it was too late. Elina didn't hesitate. She lunged, the knife flashing in the pale light, and the world seemed to slow as she pressed it into his side. His body stiffened, his face contorting in shock and pain as the blood stained the snow beneath them.

He tried to scream, but his breath caught in his throat. He collapsed, and Elina fell with him, her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of the knife. She watched as the life drained from him, his eyes no longer holding that spark of energy she had once envied. His blood pooled around them, turning the snow a deep crimson.

And still, Elina did not feel the release she had imagined. Instead, she felt only cold, an overwhelming cold that swept through her chest and consumed her from the inside out. It was as if the world had gone quiet, the silence pressing in on her, suffocating her.

When it was done, Elina sat beside his body, the knife still in her hand. She didn't know how long she had been there. The snow fell softly around them, a blanket of white that seemed to mock the violence of what had just happened.

Elina stood slowly, wiping the blood from her hands, though it did nothing to erase the horror of what she had done. She looked at Kalle's lifeless form, her eyes searching for something—anything—to make sense of it. But there was nothing. There was nothing but the weight of her actions pressing down on her chest.

She had done it. She had finally taken what she wanted. But it didn't feel like victory. It felt like failure.

The days passed in a blur. Elina's life had become a cycle of dread and anticipation. She had buried Kalle's body in the woods, careful to cover her tracks, but the weight of his death hung over her like a suffocating cloud. She tried to return to her routine, to pretend everything was normal, but it never worked. The silence around her felt too loud. The space where Kalle should have been felt too empty.

And then, one evening, as she sat in the dark of her room, a knock came at her door.

Her heart skipped in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat. She stood slowly, almost afraid to open the door. But she had to. She had to face it.

When she opened it, the cold air rushed in, and there stood Kalle. Alive.

His eyes locked onto hers, but there was no recognition in them. No warmth. Only a blank, emotionless stare. The cut on his side was gone, the blood vanished, and the chill of death that had surrounded him was nowhere to be found.

"Elina," he said, his voice flat, empty.

The ground beneath her feet seemed to shift, the world tilting at an impossible angle. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think. The room spun around her, and she reached for the doorframe to steady herself.

"Why?" she whispered.

Kalle stepped inside, his movements unnaturally slow. He didn't answer, just continued to stare at her with that same empty expression.

And then, with a final, chilling silence, he stepped forward and raised a hand, his fingers pressing against her chest.

It was the last thing Elina felt before everything went dark.

And when the dawn broke, there was no trace of her left in the room. Only the thick, suffocating silence.