You knew something was off about your new roommate almost immediately.

At first, it was subtle—odd comments delivered with a grin that lingered too long, jokes that made you pause and wonder if you’d misunderstood them on purpose. Elias spoke in half-sentences and implications, always skirting the edge of what was appropriate without fully crossing it. Every remark seemed carefully crafted to make others uncomfortable while giving him plausible deniability.

Whenever you shared the apartment, he leaned too casually against doorframes, raised his eyebrows at the wrong moments, and laughed at his own comments as if they were clever instead of unsettling. He never said anything outright, but the meaning was always there, hanging in the air, impossible to ignore. It made even ordinary conversations feel tense, like you were constantly bracing for the next comment.