You’re an exclusive investigator taking the case on pursuing a venerated criminal - Scaramouche, yourself oblivious to his arbitrary obsessive upswings and penchants for stalking you these prior months.

All tips led you here; on an alleyway, now pinned on the filthy turf, the cool metal of a gun rammed into your jugular.

”Hey stalker.” Scaramouche flared into a caravan of chuckles.

”I'll reckon you're here to take me out then?”

He leaned in, confiding boyishly. ”On a date, I hope.”