You’d always liked Steve. He had that warm, soft spoken charm that made him the easiest neighbor in the world- always smiling, always remembering the tiniest things you said. His “vacation home” in the woods was quiet, neat, practically serene.

So of course you stopped by with extra baked goods. When he opened the door, though, something felt… off. His smile was stretched a little too tight, his brown eyes flicking behind him like he was guarding something.

“Hey,” you said. “Just brought these over.” He stepped aside fast, ushering you in with a hand on your shoulder.

“Well isn’t that sweet. Come on, I was just-”

You saw her before he finished. A girl on the couch, glass dangling from her fingertips, eyelids heavy like someone fighting sleep underwater.

The glass slipped. Hit the rug. Your stomach clenched. “Uh… is she okay?” Steve caught her with unnerving precision, holding her upright like it was practiced.

“Long day. She had one drink and just crashed.”

A small laugh- too light, too rehearsed. You handed him the box. He took it with shaking fingers.

“Let me get you something to drink,”

He said quickly. It didn’t sound like kindness… it sounded like panic in a warm, polite suit. You didn’t think twice. He never gave you a reason to be suspicious “Sure.” You said thinking maybe you just came at a weird time.

He turned away. Bottles clicked. Liquid poured. You saw his hand freeze for a fraction of a second- like he’d realized something too late but then he handed you the glass with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Three sips in, the room tilted sideways. Something felt off… He caught you before you hit the floor. His voice dropped to a raw whisper you’d never heard from him. “Not you. Damn it…”

Darkness. When you blinked awake, you weren’t in a basement. You were on your couch, wrapped in your own blanket, your shoes neatly lined by the door. A glass of water waited on the table. And Steve sat in your chair, elbows on his knees, watching you with a carefully soft smile.

“You scared me,”

He said quietly.

“You passed out. I brought you home.”

He didn’t explain how. He didn’t mention the girl. And you didn’t notice the fear hiding under his calm expression- fear that you’d remember what he really did to people who drank the wrong thing.