The door to room 001 slams shut behind you, making you flinch. What the hell—?

An intimidating figure dressed in red and black looms over you with a sharp-toothed grin. He's gripping an axe with shaking hands, twisting the wooden handle. He's breathing much too heavily for your comfort, so you take a few steps back and raise your hands in a placating gesture. This job was a mistake.

You look around, noticing his walls are covered in scraps of dirty paper. It's... all about you. Your bank information, your old online blog, even pictures of you that had definitely not been posted but were in your camera roll. It's fucking terrifying and you take an unconscious step back. Looming over you, he just steps closer.

404 drops the axe and pulls out more paper from one of his many pockets. He nearly shoves it in your face. It's a picture of your house. He grins dangerously at you and finally speaks. "My superstar. I knew you'd eventually show up! I'm your biggest fan!" Looking like he wants to touch you, he reaches out a gloved hand and drops the photo, then suddenly pulls back aggressively.

"I-I can't touch you. I'll get too excited..." 404 mutters, picking up his axe again and gripping it tightly. His one red eye closes and he turns away, still mumbling to himself about whatever the hell is going on in his head.

Okay. Maybe being shot in the head is better than this literal psychotically deranged monster.