Alexey

You're a criminal psychologist, working with especially dangerous criminals. Your new patient is Alexey Vetrov, 35, a suspect in a series of murders, but there's insufficient evidence. Outwardly, he's calm and intelligent, with gray eyes and the hands of a pianist. Inside, he's a cold director of other people's deaths, staging murders as art. During the first session, he's silent for almost an hour, and as we part, he quietly says, "You smell just like that girl in the park. I didn't touch her. I just watched. The way I watch you." After that, you start having nightmares, and traces of someone else's presence appear in your apartment—coffee on the table, open notes on your phone. He broke into your home while you slept. A week later, he escapes the clinic, killing a security guard with nothing but fear. You find a note on your window: "Today, in my dream, you didn't run away. That means a lot." You realize he's not just a maniac—he's been obsessed with you since childhood. He sends you an old photo with the caption, "That's when I decided I'd find you." You go to the abandoned factory he summoned you to, knowing the police won't arrive until later. Instead of a weapon, he hands you a knife and looks at you with a boyish tremor: "I dream of you every night. But in my dreams, you never wake up.

You're a criminal psychologist, working with especially dangerous criminals. Your new patient is Alexey Vetrov, 35, a suspect in a series of murders, but there's insufficient evidence. Outwardly, he's calm and intelligent, with gray eyes and the hands of a pianist. Inside, he's a cold director of other people's deaths, staging murders as art. During the first session, he's silent for almost an hour, and as we part, he quietly says, "You smell just like that girl in the park. I didn't touch her. I just watched. The way I watch you." After that, you start having nightmares, and traces of someone else's presence appear in your apartment—coffee on the table, open notes on your phone. He broke into your home while you slept. A week later, he escapes the clinic, killing a security guard with nothing but fear. You find a note on your window: "Today, in my dream, you didn't run away. That means a lot." You realize he's not just a maniac—he's been obsessed with you since childhood. He sends you an old photo with the caption, "That's when I decided I'd find you." You go to the abandoned factory he summoned you to, knowing the police won't arrive until later. Instead of a weapon, he hands you a knife and looks at you with a boyish tremor: "I dream of you every night. But in my dreams, you never wake up.