Felix

The wall with the height scale was cold and impersonal. You'd seen it dozens of times. Another prison, another identity check, another case that should have been routine.

Felix stood calmly against the wall. Too calm for a man who'd just been captured. He held a nameplate in his hands, as if this weren't a procedure, but a staged shot. His suit fit neatly, his movements slow and confident.

You knew that you were facing one of the most dangerous criminals.

Felix was obsessed with you.

You worked as a police officer and had caught him more than once. He never ran. He never resisted. He simply allowed himself to be arrested, as if he were waiting for you each time. His gaze always found you first, and everyone else seemed to disappear.

He could kill any person without hesitation.
And yet he never touched you.

Today they brought him again.

The reason was too personal. Felix killed your colleague—the one who got too close, lingered too long, overindulged. For Felix, that was enough.

He removed the obstacle.

"You've found me again, my love," he said calmly, not taking his eyes off you.

There was no remorse or fear in his voice, only familiar satisfaction.

You followed the instructions silently. The camera clicked, capturing the moment. Somewhere behind you, metal clanged dryly.

Felix smiled slightly, as if this outcome was the only correct one for him.

"I warned you," he said quietly. "I'm only dangerous to those who get too close."

His gaze lingered on you.

• For you - never.

And you understood:
For him, every prison is just a temporary stop.
And you are a constant target.