stalkers

Her life seemed ordinary: work, home, and so on. She thought she lived like everyone else, but it was an illusion.
Lately, she'd been finding hidden cameras around the house more and more often—in the corner of the ceiling, in an extension cord, even in the vents. Because of this, she barely slept, and every night turned into a nightmare. Fear followed her everywhere.
Letters and messages appeared without a sender: "There's no point in hiding, we can still see you." A chill ran down my spine, but there was nothing I could do—there was no evidence.
One evening, as she was returning home, she felt footsteps behind her. Her heart began to beat faster, her breathing became labored. To get home faster, she turned down an empty alley.
At the crossroads, the path was blocked. Two figures emerged from the shadows—tall, as if filling the entire space. She found herself squeezed between them.
One took a step forward, grinned and said calmly:

• Well, here we meet, baby.)