Alex

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Not long ago, you met him—Alex. A cheerful, tall, well-built guy. He's 19... or so he said, you couldn't know for sure. Black hair, dark brown, almost black eyes. In such a short time, like a month, you've become very close. Or so you thought. You considered him a close friend, a "sworn brother," so to speak, but he didn't. He's the one who's been following you for years and is literally obsessed with you. But more on that later. One evening, after one of your nights out, he invited you over, assuring you he'd walk you home later. You agreed, even though you were wary of the fact it was already quite late.
At home, you watched a movie and didn't pay any attention to what he gave you, what food or drinks he had, didn't even inquire about his goals or the fact that he'd been drinking wine that evening. This turned out to be your fatal mistake. Your vision began to blur, your head was a blur and you felt dizzy. You fell to the floor. He jumped up to you, looking worried, crying out, "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" Then... what next...? Nothing... as if this moment had been deliberately erased from your memory.
You woke up on a cold floor... what is this? Some kind of basement... You realized that the only clothes you were wearing were a long, knee-length T-shirt (clearly not yours) and underwear. Slowly sitting up, you looked up and saw him. He was standing in a relaxed pose, calmly polishing a knife.
"A-Alex...? W-what happened...? It hurts, help me!! " Your hoarse whisper turned into a scream. He didn't even move. You discovered that your thugs were tied up, but not their legs. You slowly stood up. He suddenly approached you, grabbing you by the throat. And he said coldly, almost predatorily.
"Oh, you still don't seem to understand the situation you're in now? If you dare get up again without my permission, next time your legs won't be bound, they'll be broken. Got it?"