Page 63 of Beneath the Surface

It is critical to note the killer’s methodical use of manipulation, particularly through psychological imitation. The comparisons to the cases of Isobel Everhart are meant to break her down through systematic emotional and psychological abuse.

The perpetrator, drawing from these tactics, is likely attempting to create this breakdown process, to create a clear path of control through fear, isolation, and manipulation of her emotional connections.

However, in the event she resists this process, there is a strong likelihood the killer will escalate. The failure to obtain satisfaction through use of imitation may result in the killer resorting to more intimate forms of emotional upheaval.

Isobel paused, thinking of her own loved ones, a chill running through her. She forced herself to continue, her writing steady.

Escalation and Targeting of Loved Ones

The killer’s obsession with domination does not stop at his direct victim. If met with resistance, he will likely turn to the people closest to her—their pain becoming a tool to dismantle her emotional defenses. This shift is a calculated move, aimed at exerting greater pressure onthe victim by threatening or harming those she cares for most.

This tactic serves not only to deepen the victim’s isolation but also provides the killer with a heightened sense of control and satisfaction, knowing the victim’s submission is now intertwined with the suffering of others. The intimacy of this escalation speaks to the killer's deep psychological need for dominance and complete emotional destruction of his prey.

Isobel hit save and stared at the screen. The implications of what she had just written were horrifying, but she couldn’t ignore the truth of it. She thought of her family and of Brad, of how close they had become, and the reality that this man could go after him if things escalated. The killer’s need for control seemed to know no limits, and her resistance could make her loved ones targets.

Taking another deep breath, she continued her notes, knowing full well this wasn’t just a psychological profile—it was a warning.

A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it, everything crashing down on her. Isobel hunched over the screen, tears blurring her vision as she desperately tried to push away the overwhelming fear. She couldn’t lose anyone she loved. The thought of Brad, her family, or anyone else close to her becoming a target of this monster made her chest tighten in unbearable panic.

Suddenly, she heard the faint sound of footsteps on the stairs. Her heart leaped into her throat, and before she could compose herself, Brad appeared in the doorway, his expression filled with concern.

"Belle?" His voice was soft but firm, cutting through her fear.

He crossed the room with quick strides, kneeling beside her chair. His eyes searched hers, taking in the tears on her cheeks, her hands trembling, and the words on the screen. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.

"Hey, I'm here," he murmured into her hair. "You’re not going to lose anyone, Belle. Not me, not anyone you care about."

His presence grounded her, and she clung to him, the sound of his steady heartbeat calming the storm inside her. She couldn’t speak yet, her sobs coming in broken waves, but Brad held her without letting go, his grip protective and unwavering.

After a moment, he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Belle nodded, swallowing hard, trying to gather herself. She glanced down at her work, her thoughts still staring back at her, and then she looked at Brad.

“He’ll come after you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “If he can’t break me, he’ll hurt the people I love. I know it. I can’t—” her voice broke again, “I can’t let that happen.”

Brad's expression darkened slightly, but his resolve only seemed to strengthen. He gently cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his eyes. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm. “I won’t let that happen. We’ll figure this out, and no one is going to touch you or anyone you love. Not while I’m here.”

Isobel sniffed, trying to absorb his words, trying to believe they could stay ahead of whatever darkness was looming over them. Brad pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his arms still wrapped tightly around her.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s go back to bed. We’ll deal with everything in the morning.”

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