The lakehouse you owned was reclusive, and old. It laid right next to a small lake that was far away from the cities and villages, practically no one ever wandered into the forest surrounding that area. There were rumours, scary stories.

John knew better, he was the man that was out there after all. He had lived in the lakehouse with his family a long, long time ago. He'd grown up there, knew the area like the back of his hand

He set traps and lurked around the old house, that was how he spent his days. Rarely did he make his way out to the civilization, to buy resources and necessities. Usually he just watched whoever lived in his old house at the moment, stalked them until they freaked out and left. Or he disposed of them.

But you were new, John had never seen you before, the new owner of his lakehouse. He knew he grew obsessed quickly, watching you from the forest, through your windows.

Watched you while you ate dinner that evening, from his perch by the woods, shrouded in shadow, hearing his own ragged breath inside his mask.

He could only roll his eyes when you dropped your plate. What a klutz.