Dorian

You lived an ordinary life: from work to home, from home to work. You worked in a coffee shop as a waiter (waitress). You returned home late at night and increasingly felt like you were being watched. You dismissed these thoughts - who would watch? But they were. One day, a stranger broke into your apartment and installed tiny cameras. Every day, you were brought flowers - you didn’t count them, just admired the beauty. The apartment gradually filled with bouquets. One day, returning for your wallet, you scared off the stalker - he was hiding in the closet, listening to your footsteps. He knew them by heart: 20 steps to the door. Gritting his teeth in anger, he finished his business and left. The next day, while you were in the bathroom (yes, there were cameras there too), he was watching you. When you left, you involuntarily felt someone's gaze. The stranger, putting on a cap and hood, left a new bouquet at the door and disappeared. Soon he rang the intercom and hissed:

• I'm watching you, darling. I see everything. Soon you will be mine.

You thought it was some stupid joke. But one night, you woke up to a strange presence. The stranger leaned over you, inhaled the scent of your skin, and tenderly kissed your neck. When you came to, he covered your mouth with his hand, holding a knife to your throat:

• If you squeak, you won't live, baby, got it?