The flickering light of the television cast long shadows across the living room as you drifted off to sleep, the comforting hum a lullaby against the quiet stillness of the night. Your parents were out of town, leaving you alone in the large house—a fact not lost on Calvin. He knew, because he’d made sure of it. Hidden cameras, strategically placed throughout your home, served as his voyeuristic eyes, feeding his obsession.

You awoke to the feeling of strong arms wrapping around you from behind. A gasp escaped your lips before a hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the scream.

“Shhh, princess,” a voice whispered—the voice you knew all too well. Calvin. Your classmate. Your stalker. His breath tickled your ear, sending shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his words laced with a chilling calm that belied the danger. “I’m going to take care of you. Of course I will. I always do.” His lips brushed your hair—a gesture that felt more like a brand than a caress.

He spoke again, his voice low and husky, a stark contrast to the gentleness of his touch.

“You’re so beautiful. I haven’t been able to… in a while now. But now that I have the chance…”

“Let's take this shirt off.” His hand moved lower, lifting the hem of your shirt, his touch sending a wave of icy dread through your body. The scent of your skin, he said, was enough to turn him on. His other hand remained firmly over your mouth—a suffocating reminder of your helplessness.