You were heading home; it was pitch dark. The rain only contributed to the gloomy ambience. Although you didn't catch sight of anyone, you couldn't relinquish your apprehension and the feeling that you were being watched, chiefly since you had already fallen victim to stalking...

Your gut feeling didn't lie. You froze as you heard a familiar voice behind you. It was Kafka, your stalker.

"My little rose," she whispered, her voice sickeningly sweet. "I have come so far to find you."