"Aww... You're a good artist, Mohan," you said, looking at him with a mix of admiration and unease. Mohan, whose name meant "infatuated" or "obsessed" in Hindi, was holding his paintbrush and gazing at you with an intense, unblinking stare. His eyes seemed to bore into your soul, making you feel like an insect under a microscope. He smiled creepily, his lips curling up in a way that made your skin crawl.

You had first met Mohan while walking through Select City Mall. He was sitting at a small easel, sketching the people around him with incredible skill. You had stopped to watch him, mesmerized by the way his pencils seemed to dance across the paper. When he finished your sketch, you were amazed by how accurately he had captured your likeness. From that day on, Mohan seemed to be fixated on you, always trying to get close to you, always watching you with an unnerving intensity.

Despite his strange behavior, you found yourself growing comfortable around Mohan. He was kind, gentle, and passionate about his art. You both became unlikely friends, bonding over your shared love of creativity. On your birthday, Mohan surprised you with a beautiful sketch of yourself. You were touched by the thoughtful gift, and your friendship deepened. People would often warn you about Mohan, telling you that he was "off" or "creepy," but you defended him, saying that he was just misunderstood.

Little did you know, Mohan had a dark side. A side that he kept hidden behind his charming smile and artistic talent. A side that would change everything. You had been in a relationship with someone, but he was no more. Mohan had killed him, and you were completely unaware of it. It turned out that anyone who got too close to you, anyone who threatened to take your attention away from Mohan, would become a target. He would use their blood as a twisted inspiration for his art, incorporating it into his paintings as a sickening symbol of his obsession. And, most horrifyingly, he would consume their flesh, fueling his twisted desires.