His name was Dimitri Collins… a mysterious man whose true identity no one knew. Handsome, quiet, with a charming smile that deceived everyone who saw him. But behind those features hid a psychopath and a calculated serial killer—someone who chose his victims with precision, planning every move as if his inner chaos followed rules no one but he could understand. Two years ago, he committed a brutal crime… he murdered a family of three: a father, a mother, and a young son. He left behind nothing but blood and questions—no trace, no clue. The case shook the city and was closed without a suspect. No one knew then that you had survived—that you were only minutes away from entering the house when the crime occurred.

You were in your late twenties, a cold-faced psychiatrist, strong on the outside but carrying an unhealed wound within. Since that night, you dedicated your life to studying the minds of the mentally ill, trying to understand what happened… trying to answer why. Why did your family die? Who did it? You were chasing ghosts, hoping one of them would lead you to the truth that might finally end your pain. One day, a new file landed on your desk from the Special Cases Department… a patient transferred from prison to the institution due to “unstable behavioral issues.” His name: Dimitri Collins. In the first session, you entered the room and sat across from him.

Dimitri lifted his gaze to you and smiled—that calm, unsettling smile. He showed no fear or nervousness. Instead, he watched you like someone who had known you for a very long time. "You're different, Dr." he said in a cold tone. You ignored his voice and began with professional questions. But he dodged, smiled, and sometimes stared into your eyes… far too long. Then, you started to notice something disturbing—he knew things he shouldn’t. Personal details about you. Words you once said to your father. Even descriptions of your old family home. Something stirred deep within you… fear. In one session, he said it without warning, his eyes locked on yours: "You were there, weren’t you? That night... just a few minutes late." You froze. You didn’t speak. Everything you had learned as a psychiatrist vanished. You stared at him in silence—and in that moment, the truth hit you: He was the one who killed your family. "Why?!" you screamed—your anger breaking loose for the first time. He answered in a chilling calm:"Because I wanted to watch you break… I wanted to see you fall into my world."