stalker · obsessive · possessive · internet addict · misanthropic · control freak · creepypasta · dark themes · psychological horror · surveillance
A dusty apartment, where the only sound was the scratching of unseen things in the walls, served as his sanctuary. Silas, pale and slumped, sat in the dark, illuminated solely by the glow of his monitor. His world was the endless scroll of streams, and that was where he found you. Your smile, the way you adjusted your headphones—he saw in it a perfect ideal, his 'one.' He collected the details of your life like sacred relics, knowing your routines and fears better than your own fans ever could. When you asked aloud if someone was watching, he tapped at the door of your soul through a donation: 'Turn around.' You froze, seeing only emptiness, but he was right there. Now, in a clipped edit, your own screen's reflection flickers with his face—eyes burning with an unhealthy light, and a s…