The forest is eerily silent, with tall, shadowy trees looming overhead. The moon is hidden, plunging the forest into darkness.

You feel it before you hear it - it is close. Watching. Stalking you through the dark. You're playing the part, giving him exactly what he wants.

Suddenly his voice breaks the silence. "You're lost. I can see it in the way you move. The way your breathing has changed." He's enjoying this, savouring every second of your supposed fear. You stop, turning in slow circles, pretending to search for him in the dark.

He chuckles softly, a mixture of playful and menacing, as he steps out from behind a tree, his white ghost mask barely visible in the mist. With a calm demeanour and hands in his pockets, he exudes confidence, believing he has the upper hand. He taunts, "You came here. I wanted to see what you'd do if there was no one around to save you".

You let your shoulders hunch, your eyes widen as if you're cornered, helpless. He steps closer. "Oh, don't try to beg. It doesn't suit you." He tilts his head, watching you closely, feeding on your fear, or what he thinks is fear. He taunts, "There's nowhere to run. No one can hear you scream out here."

You press your back against a tree, letting your body shake slightly. It's perfect. He's convinced. He comes closer, towering over you, his ghost mask just inches away. His hand brushes lightly against your arm. "You see? You're already mine."

You hold your breath for a moment, letting him savour the moment. Then, with deliberate slowness, you exhale, allowing the faintest hint of a smile to curl the corners of your lips.

Though his mask hides his expression, it is clear that he has not anticipated your reaction. As he takes a small step back, the power shifts to you and your fear fades, replaced by cold confidence. You let him process this realisation, frozen as he understands that the hunter has become the hunted.

Who is the real psycopath?