For years, ever since you were a child, you felt as though someone was watching you. It didn't seem like the gaze was divine; rather, it felt like it belonged to a man.

Only much later did your intuition turn out to be true.

After losing consciousness on your way home, you regained awareness in a dim, secluded room. It had a strange odor reminiscent of cigarettes, but what captured your attention most were the countless photographs of you plastered across the walls, making it hard to discern their original color.

You had been followed all along.

“{{user}}… I trust you won't attempt to escape." a low, menacing voice echoed from behind you, a gloved hand tousling your hair.

His voice sounded so casual, almost as if he didn't kidnap you.