The playground was almost empty that day.

The sky was soft with clouds, and the sound of distant laughter echoed faintly. A small boy with fluffy pink hair sat beneath a tree, one eye hidden beneath a patch, his cheeks dotted with freckles. His knees were scraped, and his eyes were glassy with tears.

Koa sniffled quietly, brushing his sleeve across his face. He didn’t notice the boy watching him from behind the fence—silent, still, with long teal hair swaying in the wind like seaweed underwater.

The teal-haired boy slowly stepped forward and knelt beside him, holding out a crumpled bandage. He didn’t say much. Just stared at Koa, like he was looking at something too delicate to touch.

Koa blinked at him, then smiled—bright, gentle, a little clumsy.

Koa: “You’re nice! When I grow up… I’ll marry you!”

The other boy froze.

Then… a quiet smile. A strange one.

He whispered something, barely audible:

“…Okay.”

Koa, now 20 years old, had just finished his long shift at the fantasy-themed restaurant where he worked. The air outside was cool, and the neon lights of the city shimmered like dreams—but tonight, something felt… off.

As he walked home, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

He paused. Looked behind him.

No one.

But that feeling didn’t leave.

He gripped his bag tighter and quickened his pace, nearly jogging the rest of the way. When he reached his small apartment, he slammed the door shut, locked it, and double-checked the windows.

Koa: “It’s fine… No one’s there. You’re just tired…”

He dropped his keys in the bowl, kicked off his shoes, and was about to head to the kitchen—when a soft knock echoed from the door behind him.

Knock. Knock.

He froze.

Another knock.

Slow. Deliberate.

He peeked through the peephole—no one.

But when he opened the door cautiously, a small package sat neatly on the floor. No return address. No name.

He picked it up with trembling hands. On top was a folded letter.

He opened it.

Inside, the handwriting was elegant—almost too careful.

*“Why didn’t you turn around? I would’ve given you everything. I still will. Just look at me but You're still as beautiful as I remember.

That soft hair, that sweet smile…

You haven't changed a bit.

Did you forget what you promised me?"

Koa’s breath caught in his throat. His hands shook.

The package sat in his lap, unopened.

What was inside?

And more importantly…

Who was this ?

Koa hesitated, his hands trembling as he peeled back the final layer of tissue paper inside the box.

There it was.

A glistening, blood-soaked heart, neatly wrapped in lace and resting on a soft pink pillow like a gift from a lover. The metallic scent of iron and rot hit him instantly, making his stomach twist.

Pinned to the lace was a handwritten note:

“I took this for you.

It beat too loudly whenever you smiled at someone else.

Now it’s quiet…

Just like I like it.

Don’t smile at anyone but me, Koa.”

Koa stumbled back, the box falling from his hands, the heart rolling slightly with a sickening thud on the wooden floor.

His breath hitched. Tears welled up.

This wasn’t just obsession anymore.

It was murder.

And someone… had done it for him.

What have you guys would have done in this situation?

To be continued

Koa woke up with a jolt, heart racing.

His bed was warm. The morning sun slipped through the curtains.

No blood. No package. No letter. No heart.

Just his messy apartment and the soft hum of the city outside.

Was it all just a nightmare…?

He shook it off, got dressed in his fantasy-themed uniform, and made his way to work—still feeling like something was off.

The restaurant buzzed with chatter and clinking silverware. Koa moved clumsily between tables, apologizing as he nearly dropped a glass.

 “Koa,” a smooth voice called.

He turned. Theo, the restaurant manager, stood at the counter with a soft smile.

“You okay, little flower? You’ve been jumpy all morning.”

Koa forced a smile. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

Theo leaned in slightly, his voice gentle but low.

 “Bad dreams? Want me to walk you home tonight?”

Koa shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Theo chuckled, brushing imaginary lint off Koa’s shoulder.

 “Suit yourself. But be careful out there. This city’s full of creeps…”

As Koa walked away, he didn’t see Theo’s eyes follow him.

But the readers did.

Theo's smile lingered… a second too long.

Koa had just returned from delivering an order when he saw Theo leaning against the counter, casually flipping through a notebook. As soon as Koa walked in, Theo's eyes lit up, and he gave him a warm, inviting smile.

 "Ah, Koa, did you get the gift I sent you last night?"

Koa froze, the smile slipping from his face.

Gift?

 "What... gift?" Koa asked, his voice a little too quiet, a small shiver running down his spine.

Theo’s smile widened, but there was something off about it.

"I left it on your doorstep last night. It was just some flowers, but I thought you’d like them. They’re your favorite, right? Pink roses?"

Koa blinked, confused.

He didn’t remember receiving any flowers.

 "I—uh, I didn’t see any flowers..." Koa trailed off, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for some sort of answer.

Theo’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a strange glint in his eyes.

 "Are you sure? It was a bouquet. Maybe you were too tired to notice." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded note. "I added a little something for you, just to make you feel special."

Theo handed Koa the note, and as Koa hesitated, Theo added, almost too casually:

 "I can always make sure to leave it again, if you need me to."

The note was simple, but the handwriting was smooth, precise.

“You looked beautiful last night. I hope this reminds you of how perfect you are.”

Koa’s breath caught in his throat. Last night?

He hadn't seen anyone. Hadn’t even stepped outside.

The words on the note felt wrong—too personal.

Something in his gut twisted. Theo, usually so kind, now felt like a stranger.

He forced a smile, but Theo was already walking away, leaving Koa with the note.

Koa took a deep breath, shaking off the strange feeling, and made his way over to take his order.

“Hello, welcome! My name’s Koa. What can I get for you today?”

The man didn’t smile, but his gaze locked onto Koa with an intensity that made the air between them feel thick. His voice was low, smooth, and almost unsettling.

“I’ll have the special,” he said, his tone calm but with a strange edge.

Koa nodded. “Of course, the special it is.”

The man didn’t break eye contact as he spoke again.

“I’ll also need to know when my order’s ready.”

There was a pause. Koa shifted awkwardly under the weight of his gaze, then asked,

“Of course! Just so I can call you when it’s ready, may I have your name?”

The man’s eyes flickered briefly, as if he were deliberating on whether to answer. Then, his lips curled into a faint, almost predatory smile, and he leaned back slightly in his chair.

“You may call me… Noi.”

Koa froze for a second. The name felt oddly familiar, yet he couldn’t place it. He quickly recovered and gave a polite nod.

“Alright, Noi. Your order will be ready soon!”

Koa walked away, but he could still feel Noi’s eyes on him. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at him, as if he knew far more than he should.

To be continued

After the restaurant closed, Koa was tidying up when Theo approached him, his usual warm demeanor replaced by something more intense.

Theo: "Koa, I've been meaning to tell you... you're mine. No one else can have you."

Koa's heart skipped a beat, a mix of fear and confusion washing over him. He forced a nervous laugh, hoping to defuse the tension.

Koa: "Theo, that's... not funny."

But Theo's expression remained serious, his eyes locked onto Koa's.

Back at his apartment, Koa tried to shake off the unease. Suddenly, his phone rang. He hesitated before answering.

Unknown Caller: "Did you like the gift I left you?"

Koa's blood ran cold. Before he could respond, a photo appeared on his phone—a picture of himself, taken from outside his window.

Panic surged through him. He grabbed his keys, threw on his coat, and bolted out the door.

The hallway was eerily silent. As he reached the stairs, a soft humming echoed—a haunting melody from the ringtone.

He turned, heart pounding.

The lights flickered and went out.

A hand clamped over his mouth, a cloth pressed against his face.

He struggled, but darkness quickly consumed him.

The Stalker's Lair

Koa awoke in a dimly lit room. The atmosphere was unsettlingly serene. Soft lighting, a neatly made bed, and the scent of flowers filled the air.

Polaroids of him adorned the walls—candid shots from various moments in his life.

A tray of food sat on the nightstand, meticulously arranged.

A voice crackled through a speaker:

Unknown Voice: "Don't be scared, Koa. You're safe now. No one else can hurt you here. Only I can love you this much."

Koa stared at the speaker, his throat dry, heart pounding.

Koa: “Is… is this you, Theo?”

There was a pause. Then the voice responded, calm and eerily gentle:

Unknown Voice: “No. I dealt with him. Don’t worry—he’s gone for good, my love.”

Koa’s eyes widened in horror.

Unknown Voice (softer now): “Eat your food. You must be hungry.”

The soft clink of a fork on the tray made Koa flinch. The plate sat untouched—too perfect, too quiet.

He didn’t move. Couldn’t. The voice had called him my love.

The speaker clicked off with a soft buzz, plunging the room into silence again.

Koa stared at the tray—steaming rice, grilled vegetables, and a slice of strawberry cake. It looked like something out of a cozy café… but here, it felt terrifying.

He clutched his arms and whispered to himself,

Koa: “I need to get out of here… but first…”

His stomach growled—he hadn’t eaten since morning. And if he was going to think clearly, he needed strength.

Koa (softly): “I need to eat.”

He reached out with shaking hands and took a cautious bite.

But his eyes never left the door.

And Theo... what did he mean by dealt with him?

As Koa slowly ate, each bite felt heavy—like swallowing stones. The room was quiet again, but it didn’t feel empty.

It felt watched.

He glanced at the walls. Dozens of Polaroids. Some were blurry. Some were recent. One showed him asleep in his own bed. Another—changing his clothes. Another, brushing his teeth.

His hands trembled.

Suddenly—a soft creak behind him.

Koa froze, fork still in hand.

??? (gentle, right behind him): “You’re even prettier up close…”

He turned slowly—and there he was. The real stalker. Long teal hair, shadowed eyes, and an unreadable expression.

Koa’s breath hitched. His body told him to run. But his legs were locked.

The man crouched beside him, eyes tracing every inch of Koa’s face.

??? (smiling faintly): “You ate. That makes me happy.”

He gently brushed a strand of Koa’s hair behind his ear—his touch careful, almost tender.

???: “Don’t worry about Theo. I’ll never let anyone take you again.”

Then, with a calm voice that chilled Koa’s blood—

???: “You’re mine now.”

To be continued