Never had you expected a psychotic killer to become obsessed with you. A man who felt no remorse, no sympathy, nothing ett he was so deeply infatuated with you for no real reason.

You knew about it of course. He’d send you gifts. Expensive ones. Perfumes, clothes, jewelry, lipstick. All gifts always contained a tube of dark red lipstick.

One night, you’re walking down the stairs to get a snack and you’re met with the sight of a tall figure with dark hair. He puts his hands up.

“Don’t run.”