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  The cabin was quiet, the silence punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves outside and the distant hoot of an owl. Tristan and Leon stood shoulder to shoulder, hearts pounding in unison as they faced the reality of their situation. The threat that had loomed over them in the woods now felt even more palpable within the walls of their temporary refuge. Leon paced the small space, his brow furrowed in concentration. “We need to secure the cabin,” he said, urgency lacing his voice. “If he’s determined to come for us, we can’t let him in.” Tristan nodded, adrenaline surging through him as he set to work. They quickly checked the windows, securing any loose boards and ensuring that nothing could easily be pried open. The night outside was impenetrable, a darkness that seemed to pulse with menace, but inside the cabin, they had a flicker of safety—a small comfort in the gathering storm. As they worked in silence, Tristan couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that clung to him. “Do you...

  The night closed around Tristan and Leon like a living entity, its oppressive darkness pressing in from all sides. Each step they took felt weighted with the gravity of uncertainty, and the shadows whispered secrets only the night could understand. Leon led the way, his body taut with vigilance, every sense heightened in the eerie silence that enveloped them. “Stay alert,” Leon murmured, glancing back at Tristan. “Whatever crashed earlier could be dangerous.” Tristan’s heart raced as he nodded, his pulse echoing in his ears. They moved cautiously through the dense woods, each crack of a twig underfoot sounding like thunder in the stillness. The air felt thick, laden with anticipation, and every breath he took was laced with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. “Do you think it’s the same figure we saw earlier?” Tristan asked, trying to keep his voice steady. “It could be,” Leon replied, his eyes scanning the shadows that danced around them. “But we need to be ready for anything. S...

  As the night deepened, the atmosphere in the cabin grew thick with tension and unspoken fears. Tristan stood before the canvas, the vibrant colors of his creation swirling in chaotic harmony, a reflection of both his inner turmoil and the bond he was forging with Leon. Yet, the glimpse of the shadowy figure outside haunted him, a stark reminder that they were not just battling their own demons but also something far more sinister lurking just beyond the light. “Let’s focus on the art,” Leon said, his voice a steady anchor amidst the rising storm of anxiety. “We can’t let fear distract us from what we’re creating together.” Tristan nodded, though the unease coiled tightly in his chest. He dipped his brush into a fiery orange, allowing the color to flow onto the canvas, its brightness contrasting sharply against the darker tones. With each stroke, he felt a surge of energy, the paint transforming into a dance of fire and shadow, a representation of the duality that lay within him. ...

  As Tristan made his way to Leon’s studio, the streets of Vancouver blurred into a haze. The city’s vibrant art scene buzzed around him, but he felt isolated within his thoughts. Each step felt heavier than the last, a physical manifestation of his anxiety and anticipation. What awaited him at Leon’s studio? Would it be a space of creation or a trap laid to ensnare him further into Leon's grasp? He arrived at a sleek, modern building that contrasted sharply with the more rustic charm of his own neighborhood. The entrance was marked by a large glass door, through which he could see a spacious, immaculate studio filled with canvases, paints, and the scent of fresh varnish. As he stepped inside, the air felt charged, alive with the potential for creation and destruction alike. Leon stood at the far end of the room, his back turned, as he busily arranged an array of art supplies. The sight of him sent a shiver of both excitement and apprehension through Tristan. There was something in...

  The following days passed in a haze for Tristan. The black smartphone sat prominently on his table, a constant reminder of Leon’s presence in his life. Each time it buzzed, he felt a jolt of adrenaline shoot through him—part excitement, part dread. He had managed to avoid replying to Leon’s messages, but with every unanswered buzz, the weight of Leon’s expectations pressed down harder. Art had always been Tristan’s refuge, a world where he controlled the narrative, the colors, and the emotions. Now, it felt tainted, overshadowed by the looming presence of a man who seemed determined to dominate every aspect of his life. The thought of Leon possessing not just his work but a part of him sent chills down his spine. Yet, a dark part of him craved it, like a moth drawn to a flame. On the fifth day, with his resolve crumbling, he finally picked up the phone and typed out a hesitant response. Tristan : What do you want from me? The message felt heavy, laden with the implications of sur...

  Tristan stood in the dim light of his small apartment, his hands trembling as he stared down at the black box that had just been delivered. The name on his lips felt heavy—Leon Armand. The man was everywhere, even when he wasn’t physically present. His presence seemed to linger like a shadow, always watching, always pulling Tristan deeper into his web. He opened the box slowly, revealing a sleek, expensive smartphone nestled inside. The device gleamed under the soft light of the apartment, as if taunting him with its significance. There was no note, but Tristan didn’t need one. He knew exactly who had sent it. A knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach as he picked up the phone. Almost immediately, it buzzed in his hand. The screen lit up with a message from an unknown number. He already knew who it was. Leon : This phone is for you. From now on, it’s how we will communicate. Don’t disappoint me. Tristan’s pulse quickened. He hadn’t expected Leon to move so quickly. They had only m...

  The dim lighting of the art gallery cast long shadows on the abstract paintings that adorned the walls. Tristan Gage, standing in the corner, nervously watched as guests meandered through the exhibit. His heart pounded in his chest; this was his first major exhibition, the culmination of years of hard work and relentless pursuit of his passion. Across the room, a tall, imposing figure leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on one painting in particular—Tristan’s favorite. The man was dressed impeccably, his dark tailored suit contrasting with his pale skin. His presence was undeniable, commanding the space around him without uttering a word. Tristan’s eyes flicked toward the man, and their gazes met. Leon Armand. Tristan had heard of him, of course—everyone in Vancouver’s art scene had. A wealthy businessman, known for his vast collection of rare and expensive art, Leon had a reputation that extended far beyond his wealth. Whispers of his ruthlessness, his control over those in h...

  Synopsis: In the dark and cold streets of Vancouver, two men’s lives are bound by obsession and violence. Leon Armand, a wealthy and enigmatic businessman, harbors deep-seated darkness within him—his desires twisted by childhood trauma and a need for control. Enter Tristan Gage, a struggling young artist, whose talent and innocence attract Leon like a moth to the flame. What begins as a chance encounter spirals into a deadly game of power, possession, and control. As Leon’s obsession with Tristan grows, so does the violence he’s willing to inflict to keep him by his side. Stalked, hurt, and entrapped, Tristan fights for his freedom while a toxic, twisted love blooms between them. As their relationship spirals into darkness, Tristan must decide whether to break free from Leon’s deadly grasp or surrender to the allure of his obsession, even if it means his own destruction. Knife Along Throat is a brutal, passionate tale of love, obsession, and the fine line between life and death.