Fatal Obsession

It was the day after her wedding. She was walking down Main Street wearing vintage-wash blue jeans, a white tank top, one of those pointless red half-sweaters that didn't even have long sleeves, and the most radiant smile anyone had ever seen. Including me. And I'd been watching her for months, now. Almost a year. In fact, next Tuesday would mark the one-year point from the night when I had first decided to watch her.

Now, some people might argue that she wasn't much to look at. She wasn't curvy; she was thin and pale, with a few light freckles sprinkled on her nose and cheeks, and today was one of the rare occasions on which she actually wore form-fitting clothing. However, she intrigued me. She had a strangely strong sense of what was right and wrong, and she didn't usually refrain from speaking her mind, yet she always kept any emotions bottled up inside that might hurt other people. For a while after I started watching her, she had actually been cutting herself routinely, but a few weeks later, she stopped, and I knew why.

It was her now-husband, Demyx Solm. She had started dating him then; she hadn't realized I was right there, yearning for her to see that I was there for her. She had gone to him, instead. He must have done something; tempted her with promises—lies, all of them, I knew—or threatened her.

And yet, she smiled so brilliantly today.

She must not want others to suspect she is unhappy; that there is foul play afoot. That she has been conned into marriage to that insufferable young man, Demyx. Perhaps she does not even know, herself. The thought infuriated me! That one such as her would be deceived so easily; it was intolerable.

I would fix this.

Ah, yes; I would fix this. And then she could be with me, instead; the one who really loved her.

--(POV change)--

I beamed at anyone who passed me; I was positively glowing, I was sure, with happiness, for I had married the man I loved yesterday. My beloved, talented, blond-haired musician, Demyx Solm. He was more than I could've ever asked for in my life, and yet, he loved me, and I, in turn, loved him. He had brought me out of the rut I had been in for so many months; had taught me how to be happy again. He was my entire world, and so, the moment we'd graduated, we'd gotten married. I was so excited for our plans of attending college together this fall that I could hardly wait; I thought I might burst with excitement!

A tingling sensation ran down my spine, and I became puzzled. That was the feeling I got whenever I felt like I was being watched. Bewilderment plastered itself to my face, and I looked around, trying to find… actually, I don't know what I was trying to find. However, the only thing that caught my eye was a man with pinkish-brown hair standing across the street, although he was looking past me, not at me. However, as I looked at him, his gaze switched to me, and as he saw I was staring at him (which I was thoroughly embarrassed to be caught doing), a strange smile formed on his face, and he lifted a hand in greeting. I gave him a quick, sheepish grin and a quick wave before turning back around and heading on my way once again. I had only to go and buy some groceries before returning to the apartment that Demyx and I now shared. As I thought of returning to my now-husband, I couldn't help the wide smile that formed on my face once again. I could not wait to see him again.

It was not long before I completed the task I had assigned myself of purchasing the groceries, and for some reason, I felt a bit apprehensive as I made my way back to the apartment. I could not understand why I felt so, but I did. Apprehensive—and worry began to creep into my mind. For some reason, the strange smile that that man who I'd seen across the street earlier had worn bothered me. I could not decipher what had lain behind that smile; it was some sort of emotion that I was sure I had not encountered before. This vexed me. I was used to being able to read people's expressions, but as I could not with that man, I became exasperated. I quickly gave up on deciphering his expression, reaching the apartment building and entering, going up the flight of stairs to the second floor, whereupon the apartment Demyx and I shared resided.

My brow furrowed as I fished in my jeans pocket for my apartment key. I was sure that I had stuck it in my right pocket, as per usual. However, it was not there. I checked my left pocket—even though I knew I never stuck it in there, I did so just to be sure—but all my hand met was my rosary, the only thing I ever kept in my left pocket. For some reason, I felt the urge to pray for Demyx's safety. However, I quickly squashed the desire; after all, what did I have to be worried about my husband for? He was fine, and he and I had the only keys to the apartment, so it was highly unlikely that anyone could have broken into the apartment, since we lived on the second floor.

Speaking of keys, I quickly rapped my knuckles on the wooden door, seeing as I had discovered I had not thought to bring mine with me. As the door began to open, I smiled, a small sense of relief washing through me as the worry nagging at me was quelled. I opened my mouth to explain to Demyx about how I seemed to have forgotten my key, but I quickly shut it again when I saw that it was not Demyx who had answered the door.

Instead, it was the man who had smiled at me strangely from across the street.

I took a step back, but he opened the door wider, giving that strange smile again, and grabbed my wrist, pulling me into the apartment before closing the door again. Fear began to prick at me, but I ignored it. Perhaps Demyx knew this man?

"Umm… who are you?" I asked, looking around for Demyx; he was not in the dining area or living room, so I assumed he must be in either the washroom or the bedroom at the moment. The man looked hurt, and he placed his hand over his heart as though my words had stabbed him there.

"Why, I'm hurt you don't remember me," he said in a deep, smooth voice. He removed his hand from over his heart and held it out to me. "Marluxia Winters; you, Demyx, and I all had the same homeroom this past year."

I hesitantly took his hand and shook it once before taking my hand back; he seemed reluctant to let go, which set off tiny warning bells in the back of my mind. This time, I couldn't quite ignore the fear that pricked at me. Why had Demyx not come out yet? Surely, he must have heard Marluxia and I talking. We were hardly being quiet, and when one person talked at one end of the apartment, you could hear it clear across to the other end. It wasn't really that big of an apartment, and the walls in it weren't all that thick, allowing sound to travel fairly freely within it. I frowned.

"Did Demyx step out for a bit? Or is he still here?" I said.

Marluxia frowned. "Why do you ask?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. This man was acting strangely, and I didn't like it one bit. The apprehension and worry for Demyx multiplied within me tenfold. "I'm asking because he told me he'd be here when I got back, and I'm worried about him." I bit my lip as the last part escaped my lips; I hadn't really meant to tell him that, but it had managed to slip out anyways. I guess I was just too used to speaking my mind to people.

The man's frown deepened, which greatly perplexed me, but also caused a small thrill of fear in my mind, as well. "Fine, I'll take you to see him."

This only proved to further perplex me. He was going to take me to see him? Where had he gone? When Marluxia led me to the bedroom, the worry and fear in my mind only heightened. What had happened to Demyx? Marluxia opened the door too slowly for my liking, but when it was fully opened, my stomach churned, and I wished it had remained closed.

For there, lying on the bed in a pool of his own blood, was Demyx.

My eyes widened, and I heard a gasp come from my throat. I quickly covered my mouth with my hands, and I felt my eyes begin to tear as my vision blurred. I backed up until my back hit the wall across from the bedroom door. This could not be happening. No. It could not be. Demyx and I had only gotten married yesterday. Something like this could not have happened so quickly and so suddenly afterwards. This was simply a horrible, terrible nightmare from which I would wake momentarily, and Demyx would comfort me as I held onto him. But then I felt Marluxia's hand alight upon my cheek, and I realized that the sensations in this dream were too real.

Too real.

This was not a simple nightmare.

"Shh… don't cry. It was the only way," Marluxia said. His words puzzled me, and it was only now that I noticed the gun in his left hand, the one that was not wiping the tears from my cheeks. "It was the only way that we could be together."

My chest constricted. He had done this? At that moment, I realized what I had missed behind that smile.

It had been obsession.

He was obsessed with me.

He had killed my husband.

I was alone, without the one I loved. And he had killed him so that I could be with him.

I did not waste any moments on thinking. I knew that my husband was dead. I knew that I could not live without him. I knew that I did not want to live with this obsessive murderer who had killed my beloved. And I knew that if I shot myself in the head, I would die.

And so, I grabbed the gun from his left hand and, before he had any time to react, I did just that.

And then, I knew no more.

--(POV change)--

"NO!" I cried in anguish as my love grabbed my gun and shot herself in the head. "No! Why?!" Grief choked me, and I became distraught. I didn't understand. Why would she do such a thing? Had that accursed man, Demyx, actually fooled her so thoroughly that she had believed she could not live without him? Had he brainwashed her to make her believe such a thing? Tears began to blind me, and I knelt before her fallen form, kissing her slightly bloodied lips and running a hand through her blood-soaked layered brown hair. I shakily reached for the gun which she still grasped in her right hand and brought it to my own head.

"If this is the choice you've made… then I will make sure that are together in the next life."

And then, I pulled the trigger.