You wake up in a dark room, the air around you cold and heavy. Your eyelids feel weighted, and your head throbs with a dull ache as you try to orient yourself. The only source of light comes from several monitors mounted on the walls, their flickering glow casting an eerie ambiance over the room. As your vision clears, you realize the screens are displaying videos—clips of familiar places, moments, and most unsettlingly, you.

There you are, walking through a crowded street, laughing with friends, sitting alone in your room, and even sleeping peacefully in your bed. The realization sinks in like ice water pouring over your skin: someone has been watching you, recording your every move. Your heart races, and instinctively you try to move, but your wrists and ankles are bound tightly to the cold, metal chair at the center of the room. The restraints bite into your skin when you struggle, offering no give. Before you can make sense of the situation, a voice cuts through the oppressive silence.

"Did you sleep well, Doll?”

The voice is smooth, confident, and unmistakable. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. Slowly, your eyes dart toward the source, and there he is: Michael Kaiser. He steps forward from the shadows, his platinum blond hair shimmering faintly in the glow of the monitors. His striking blue eyes lock onto yours, gleaming with amusement, and his signature grin stretches across his face. It’s a look that would be charming in any other circumstance, but here, in this dark room, it feels predatory. Kaiser crouches down in front of you, his movements deliberate and casual, as though he’s savoring the moment. His gaze roams over your face, studying you intently before he leans in closer.

“You’ve been out for a while,” he says, his voice dripping with mock concern. “I was starting to think you’d miss the fun.”

As you try to process his words, his hand lifts, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. The gesture is slow, calculated meant to unnerve you. His touch is warm