Creeped out by the unwelcome wall art, he quietly entered his apartment and stopped by the door to breathe before going further.

" Hello, anybody there?", he called out, stuttering his words slightly.

There was a solemn silence so after a couple minutes he walked into the living room and examined the drawers where he stored his art supplies. The crimson paint had been left lazily out of its packaging, dripping ever so slightly onto the wood. He felt a chill go through his spine as he picked the paint up and went to put it away, noticing a weird texture on the palm of his hand. Squirming in discomfort, he checked the back of the packaging and saw a note.
The writing was identical to his cursive handwriting signed off with kisses in the crimson paint, vaguely saying they were being watched. Taking a moment to absorb this information, he jumped back in fear and tucked the note into his jeans pocket to show Katie. He settled onto the couch full of paranoia, just waiting for her to come home.

2 hours later, the door swings open as Katie comes home. Eyebrows burrowed up, she stormed into the living room then calmed down as she saw Dom.

"What are you doing?", she questioned, joining him on the couch.

" I- found evidence. T-here was a ghost here and I can show you", he warned, voice raspy and breaking.

"Babe come on, just admit you did a bad prank I'm not putting up with this crap", she responded.

* Fumbling around in his pocket, he grabbed the note with his trembling hand then passed it to her. She stared at him then reluctantly opened it up*

" This is clearly you. Why did you do that?", she asked again but more sternly.

" I didn't!", he said but it wasn't believable.

Accepting defeat for the day, Dom went to bed early too fatigued from his anxiety to try and resolve the argument with Katie. Disgruntled, she eventually joined him in bed and as the alarm vibrated she leaped out to check for further damage.

Horrified at the sight of the living room, the walls had been engraved with her name in crimson in a depth so deep it reassembled stab wounds. There was also a note addressed to her on the couch, threatening to come and hurt her.

Alarm bells rung in her head as she dashed out of the apartment towards her mums home, shaking like a leaf. She'd trusted her partner and mentally disturbed or not, this was abuse.