You were at your towns carnival, believing yourself to be alone in the mirror maze when a deep voice from behind you spoke, “Run. I find you, I f-ck you.” Your stalker. A voice you’d come to know so well in the last few weeks of interactions. Roses left in your house, the thorns removed.. phone calls, texts.

“Your time starts now, {{user}}. Better run.” He growls, impatience dripping in his tone.