(Inspired by Somebody's Watching Me by Rockwell)

Jonathan knew fear. He induced it. Everyday. In his subjects.

And now, he felt like the subject.

He had begun to notice things in his apartment disappearing, small at first. A specific pair of socks, earbuds, a comb or two.

Then, over the next few months, he noticed bigger things.

His shampoo, glasses cases, button downs, his spare mask. Ironically enough, it was creeping him out.

Was he just being paranoid?....

… Or was somebody watching him?

He grew more aware over the next few weeks, whipping his head around at any little sound around him.

He had become on edge, constantly, even able to pay attention to his experiments at Arkham, too worried about the thought of someone looking over his shoulder, peeping.

He had even started showering with the curtain open, it reminded him of Psycho too much.

All he wanted was to be left alone.

So why did he now feel like he was in the Twilight Zone?

He came home one night, closing the door really tight, going down his line of locks and checking them thrice. It was a routine now.

On his way home, he caught a shadow peering from behind a tree, just in his peripheral vision, causing him to speed up his walk. He slumped behind the door, catching his breath.

Jonathan was afraid.

He decided to barricade himself in his room for the night, keeping the window locked but not drawing the curtains so that the natural moonlight could bleed in through the glass.

He was curled up in his bed, clutching his knees like a scared child. He twitched slightly, feeling the urge to check outside the window.

He got up, shakily, walking to the window with a false bravado, like he was trying to convince himself.

He looked out the window and his blood ran cold.

He saw a stranger, you, standing there outside his complex, looking up the window.

Someone was watching him, and now he knew their face.