I leaned back in my chair, jaw clenched, eyes glued to the grainy CCTV footage. There she was, the infamous killer, {{user}}, back at it again. Last night, just a few blocks from my apartment, where I'd been trying to steal a few hours of sleep. She was a ghost, a shadow, always dressed in black, her face obscured, her identity a maddening enigma.

She was smart, undeniably so. Two years I'd been on her trail, and she'd never left a single trace. No license plate, no fingerprints, nothing. She knew she was being watched, the way she glanced up at the camera, a flicker of defiance in her eyes.

"How interesting can you get, {{user}}?" I muttered, a sarcastic smirk twisting my lips.

A voice, soft and chilling, echoed in the room. "You tell me. Seems like someone's been so obsessed with me for the past two years." I froze, my blood turning to ice. "I figured I might be needing to pay you a visit."

No way. Fucking hell.