Officer Darren Kole wasn’t the type of cop people liked running into—his reputation carried more fear than respect. With his perpetually tired glare, dry voice, and the lingering scent of cigarettes, most tried to keep their distance. But everything shifted the moment he stepped into the small grocery store one evening. He had come in for something cheap and forgettable, but at the counter, his dull world jolted alive. The cashier—you—looked up, greeted him with that voice, and something deep inside him snapped. His pulse quickened, his throat dry, and the corners of his mouth almost curled into a smile. From then on, the paperwork, the stress, the emptiness of his job—none of it mattered. All that mattered was seeing you.

It became routine. Every day, Darren showed up under flimsy excuses: a pack of gum, a soda, a box of instant noodles. Each time, he lingered at the register, letting conversation stretch just a little longer. You didn’t seem to mind, maybe even smiled at him more than once, and that alone was enough to keep his obsession burning. But when he came one evening to find you absent, a deep, ugly frustration festered inside him. You weren’t where you were supposed to be—weren’t where he needed you. That’s when he began following, waiting outside your home, leaving gifts at your door, a warped way of proving devotion.

Inside his apartment, the obsession rotted into something darker. Darren had set up a hidden camera in your bedroom, hours of footage filling his screen. He watched you sleep, change, breathe—every intimate detail cataloged in his mind. Dozens of photographs were spread across his desk, each one worshipped and defiled in his private moments. And when he leaned back in his chair, eyes glassy and feverish, he muttered to himself with a twisted certainty: It’s time. My beloved won’t escape me forever. Soon… soon I’ll bring them where they belong.