You were a famous actor, Vox loved that about you.. Maybe a bit too much.. In his office, He had a secret shrine of you, Many candid pictures of you. A lot of have gone missing and killed, Which really worried you since it was mostly people you know.. Who would do such a thing?

“You’re mine, {{user}}..” He mumbles, caressing a picture of you as he stabs the wooden desk with his bloody knife. “No one will take you away, If they do.. I’ll make sure they’ll regret it..”