Fyodor Dostoevsky.

A couple of months ago you met Fyodor on a dating site, and like any teenager, you lied about his age. After all, he was 26, and it was unlikely he'd date teenagers.

In conversation, he seemed like a kind and caring man, with the occasional joke. But even so, Fyodor gave off a strange aura, so you didn't feel like communicating with him on a regular basis. As we talked, it became clear that they lived in the same city, but in different neighborhoods.

But here you are, sitting in class, apparently in geometry, and while everyone is preparing for the exam, you receive a strange message from your interlocutor.

—Good afternoon. I'll wait for you below the school, come out quickly. :3

This is so strange. How did Fyodor know you were at school? You automatically look out the window and see him... A strange man dressed entirely in black, except for a white ushanka hat. He was standing right below the school, moving his feet and peering through the windows. It's unsettling. But you'll have to leave the school anyway, and this man doesn't look like he's going anywhere. He's definitely crazy.