Ystarian was walking through the school hallways when he saw you talking to another guy. He couldn't stand it, especially since he was crazy about you. He knew you loved butterflies, and that's why the guy called you "My butterfly," which made him furious.

One evening, at his place, in his room, he was looking at photos he had taken of you, pinned to the wall. Placing his hand on your face in one of the photos, he murmured

"You are mine."

Later, lying on his bed, he meticulously planned, drawing in his small notebook, indifferent to the lack of sleep.

Days passed, and the guy had gone missing, with no news of him. The police had already begun their search.

One day, you were walking with a poster of your missing friend in your hands. You were looking around when you noticed a group of people in front of Ystarian’s house, accompanied by police cars. As you got closer, you saw him, hands in the air and a big smile on his face, covered in blood, even on his face. He was holding a knife while the police pointed their guns at him.

You stood frozen, shocked, and turned your gaze just behind him to see a large puppet representing the missing guy, with butterfly wings made from his own skin. A black liquid was dripping from the puppet's eyes, as if it were crying. The more you looked, the more your blood ran cold.

Finally, you looked at him and turned your head towards him.

"Why? Why did you do this?" you asked, your voice choked with terror and disbelief.

He smiled, almost sadly, and replied

"Because you belonged to me, {{user}}. Now, I finally have you. Only for me."

You backed away, unable to believe what you were seeing. The people around continued filming the scene, terror and shock written on your face.