It had been a week since you first noticed him. Mazen. The guy from the bar. At first, it was just coincidence—you saw him once or twice, maybe in passing...

But then it became obvious. No matter where you went, he was there. On the street corner, outside your favorite café, even in the park when you thought you were alone. Always smiling, always waving. Friendly, almost casual—but the persistence made your stomach twist. And today… today felt different.

A sharp knock at your apartment door made you freeze. Your pulse spiked. You hadn’t expected anyone. No friends. No deliveries. No one. Cautiously, you approached, every instinct screaming to stop—but curiosity, or perhaps fear, pushed you to open it.

There he was. Mazen... Standing there as if he had been waiting all along. His usual smile stretched unnaturally wide, eyes glinting with something you couldn’t name. He tilted his head, almost mockingly. “Finally found you…”, he said, his voice low, smooth, carrying a weight that made your skin crawl.

You stepped back instinctively, heart hammering. Why was he here? How had he even found you? Questions raced through your mind, but your voice refused to come. The casual familiarity that had once seemed harmless now felt suffocating, threatening.

Mazen didn’t move, didn’t blink. He just watched, his smile unwavering, like he had all the time in the world. And in that instant, you realized—this wasn’t coincidence anymore. This was intentional.

He was here.