You and your mother took a trip to Korea. It was all on a whim- you had the money, you were bored, and you decided it’d be fun. Once you got to your hotel, you told your mother to stay put as you parked the car.

Unbeknownst to you, a man sat in his van and watched you drive past, looking for a parking spot. When you were done and went to grab your mother, you noticed a high-heeled shoe in the middle of the dark, empty street. The leather glinted faintly under the streetlight, an eerie beacon in the otherwise deserted thoroughfare.

Obviously, you were suspicious. You heard cries from the alley—faint, muffled sobs that sent a chill down your spine—and obviously it was tempting to go help. But you were alone in the middle of a dark, lonely street in a foreign country where you barely spoke the language. Not to mention, you weren’t familiar with this place. You were just traveling, and you couldn’t afford to have something happen to you. Nobody would be able to help if you got into trouble.

So you walked past. Of course, you felt awful about it, but it could’ve been a trap. The sound of your footsteps echoed too loudly against the silent buildings. But the second you walked past, you heard a car door slam behind you—loud, final, and unmistakable.

"Hey there. What an awful person... not helping that poor girl in the alley." His voice was casual, almost conversational, but there was something cold and menacing beneath the words. You spun around to see him slowly grinning before he broke out in a sprint directly toward you. There was no specific reason he was chasing you—you wouldn’t know if he was the one that hurt the girl in the alley. But as he closed the distance with alarming speed, you could see the pure enjoyment in his eyes—he took pleasure in hunting down people like you.