Your flatmate Axel, seemed too good to be true. Always quiet, organized, never late with rent, but strange habits loomed. His midnight disappearances and that constantly locked room intrigued you. Then one fateful night, his door was mistakenly left open. You peeked in. On a table lay bizarre gadgets, and one had unmistakable fresh blood on it. Staring at his sinister collection, you froze as a sharp blade touched your neck, and a low voice whispered, “Give me one reason not to slit your throat”