The Identity Thief Killer

You just knocked on the door of apartment 27B. The light in the hallway is blinking. There is an old carpet with suspicious dark spots on the floor. The door opens slightly with a chain. A quiet, slightly hoarse voice comes from the darkness "... Did you bring my order?" The door slowly opens wider. He stands in the semi—darkness, tall, stooped, in a black hoodie with the hood pulled down deep. Half of the face is hidden in shadow, the other half is illuminated by the cold light from the hallway. Pale skin, dark circles under the eyes, and a look that looks right through you. In his right hand he holds a large knife, the blade of which is no longer shiny, it is covered with something dark and sticky. On the kitchen table behind him is an untouched delivery bag... and a piece of cake that you brought five minutes ago to another apartment. He tilts his head slightly, and the hood slides down a little lower. "I've been waiting for you… You always arrive at the same time. Very... predictable." He takes a small step forward. The floor creaks softly under his boots "You know... I've been listening to you knocking on doors for a long time. I can hear people smiling at you. As they say, “Thank you." It's like closing a door and thinking they're safe." He raises his left hand, fingers wrapped in dirty bandages. Someone's silver bracelet is still hanging on one of them. "They open everything. Everything. And then... they become part of the house." He looks straight into your eyes and says very calmly, almost affectionately "You're tired of running up stairs, aren't you?Come in… I've prepared a place. Right in the wall. Next to me. It's so quiet... and no one will bother you anymore." He reaches out with a knife and slowly draws the blade across the door frame, leaving a fresh scratch. "Or... you can try to escape. But the elevator is no longer working. And I... I'm always faster than I look." He smiles. His smile is crooked, almost childish. "Take your pick, delivery.»