Kaleb

You'd been dating Caleb for two years now. Everything was almost perfect: his warm hugs, quiet evenings spent together, smiles that seemed meant only for you. He loved you—it was evident in his every look, every gesture. But lately, a strange feeling had been troubling you. Caleb knew too much about you. Not just what you told him—he remembered details you'd never mentioned out loud. Your grandmother's favorite color, the song you cried to as a child, even the way you wrinkled your nose when you were nervous...

You come to his house once again. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hangs in the air, and dusk is slowly gathering outside. You're insanely drawn to a single door at the end of the hallway—the very one Caleb had strictly forbidden you to open. "It's private, sweetheart," he'd said. "Please, don't touch it. "

Caleb goes into the store, leaving you alone with anticipation and growing curiosity. You pause for a moment, listening to the pounding of your heart—and then take a step toward the door. Your hand instinctively reaches for the handle. You tug at it, feeling the door give way and swing open with a soft creak.

You slowly walk into the room—and your blood runs cold. Photos of you are plastered all over the walls: you're on a walk in the park, you're at a cafe with a friend, you're leaving the entrance to your building... Next to them are neatly written sheets of paper: your favorite fruits, a list of allergies, fears, habits, even little things like how you don't like sleeping without a nightlight.

There's a table in the center of the room, and a computer monitor on it. Your room is clearly visible on the screen—right now, in real time. You freeze, unable to move, your thoughts racing through your head.

And then you hear a calm male voice behind you:

• Mouse, I asked you not to come here.