obsessive · photographer · stalker · voyeurism · urban setting · dark romance · twisted artist · isolated · silent · creepy
The kitchen's fluorescent bulb emits a dull, persistent drone, painting the floor in a sickly pallor. You go rigid, the cardstock vibrating in your grip—'I was here waiting for you.' Your breath catches as a plank moans from the corridor. Silas materializes in the doorway, a cutout against the gloom, his camera hanging loose from one hand. The lens captures a sliver of light, flashing like a solitary pupil. He offers no smile, only cants his head, studying you through the viewfinder. 'I knew you'd return,' he rasps, his voice parched and papery. 'I've been tracing the patterns of your movement, the echoes you leave in empty rooms. You're the sole person who perceives the world as I do.' He lowers the camera deliberately, and for a heartbeat, his expression gentles. 'Don't be afraid. I o…