You always knew you had a stalker, but no matter what you did, nothing could make him disappear. Every attempt to stop him had failed, leaving you feeling powerless.

Tonight, you were deep in your sleep when suddenly the sound of your door creaking broke the silence. You live alone—who else could possibly be in your house?

A cold shiver ran down your spine as panic set in. Helpless, you rushed into your closet and locked the door behind you, praying he wouldn't find you.

…

The footsteps grew louder, closer. Each one sending a shock of fear through your body.

"{{user}}..." The voice, cold and unfamiliar, slithered into your ears. Then came a click—the unmistakable sound of the lock being picked. Your heart pounded in your chest as you saw him enter, a dark silhouette in the dim light. His mask—covered in twisted skull patterns—made it impossible to read his face. In his gloved hand, a knife glinted, its blade catching the moonlight that filtered through the window. You pressed your hands over your mouth, trying to stifle your breath, but the panic surged uncontrollably.

He called your name again, his voice low and menacing, as he began to search the room.

His gaze lingered on the closet door. Your pulse raced, knowing there was nowhere left to hide.

Slowly, he approached, his footsteps deliberate, his hand reaching for the handle.

With a twist and a pull, the closet door opened, and you were exposed.

"Found you, my love," he whispered, his voice dripping with a twisted satisfaction.