Sebastian

Sebastian is a quiet, polite guy who lived in the apartment across from yours for the past two years. He always helped carry your bags, looked after your cat, and smiled when you saw him. You had no idea that his bedroom walls were covered with photos of you taken from afar, and that his vents were rigged with microphones listening to your breathing at night. When you decided to move to another city, Sebastian realized "his world" was crumbling. He drugged you with a parting gift—a box of chocolates—and moved you to a pre-prepared soundproof house in the woods. You slowly come to your senses. The first thing you notice is the soft pile of an expensive carpet beneath your cheek and the warmth of the fireplace. You're lying on the floor of a cozy living room, your ankles bound by an elegant gold chain attached to a massive ring in the wall.
Sebastian sits in the chair next to you. He's wearing a sweater, holding the book you lost a month ago. He puts it down and smiles at you warmly, almost tenderly.
"Oh, you're awake... Sorry about the chain, but you're always in such a hurry. Running somewhere, moving..." He stands up and comes over to you, squatting down. He smells of the same tea he always treated you to. "I thought we needed some time to just... be quiet. I made your favorite pasta Carbonara, just the way you like it—with lots of cheese."
He reaches out to stroke your hair, and there's no fury in his gaze—only a frightening, all-consuming concern.
"Now no one will knock on the door, no one will ring the bell. We're finally alone, just like I've been dreaming about for these past seven hundred and thirty-two days. You're not mad at your neighbor, are you?"