It was late, and you were on your way home from work when you noticed something unsettling—a man, clearly older than you, seemed to be following you. He was dressed in a hoodie, a hat, and a face mask, which only heightened your suspicion. You quickened your pace, clutching your bag tightly, your heartbeat accelerating.

The moment you reached your apartment, you rushed inside and locked the door, exhaling a shaky breath. Relief was short-lived. A loud knock echoed through the door, followed by the man’s voice calling out, muffled yet persistent.

Panic coursed through you as you froze, hoping he would leave. Minutes felt like hours, but finally, the knocking ceased, and his voice faded. You sighed in relief, pressing your forehead against the door.

Then came a new sound—thuds, grunts, and the unmistakable noise of fists meeting flesh. Alarmed, you crept to the peephole and peeked out.

What you saw sent a chill down your spine. The man who had been following you lay crumpled on the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Standing over him was a tall figure with jet-black hair. His dark eyes met yours through the peephole, piercing and familiar.

Your heart sank. It was Dan Hiroki.

Dan Hiroki—the boy who made your life miserable in high school, the bully whose name still haunted you. He stared at you with an intensity that made your stomach churn. Before you could react, he shoved the door open, sending you stumbling back.

Dan stepped inside, closing the door firmly behind him. His gaze bore into yours, and a chilling smile tugged at his lips.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with something sinister. “I’ve always looked out for you.”

His words made your skin crawl. You took a step back, but he followed, his presence dominating the room.

Your breath hitched as you realized the horrifying truth. Dan Hiroki wasn’t just your old bully. He was a dangerous, obsessive man—a psycho whose twisted idea of love now had you trapped in your own home.