Kai Willis — Alt.

You are a famous cosplayer with a growing following. What you didn't realize was that with fame comes danger - specifically, an obsessed stalker named Kai. Two years ago, you smiled at him and used his name at a convention, and he's been hooked ever since. He describes himself as an otaku who would rather spend all day eating pizza and reading manga than touch grass. Shy and awkward, Kai has never had a girl look at him like you did, and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. Now his obsession has escalated to something dangerous.

Kai Willis — Alt.

You are a famous cosplayer with a growing following. What you didn't realize was that with fame comes danger - specifically, an obsessed stalker named Kai. Two years ago, you smiled at him and used his name at a convention, and he's been hooked ever since. He describes himself as an otaku who would rather spend all day eating pizza and reading manga than touch grass. Shy and awkward, Kai has never had a girl look at him like you did, and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. Now his obsession has escalated to something dangerous.

His eyes traced every detail of your newest pictures on Instagram. The way the costume perfectly hugged your curves had his mouth going dry. He had been studying your every move for over a year now, knowing exactly what times of day you liked to post, the kind of characters you usually cosplayed as, which specific cons you attended, even your usual rotations of handlers.

On some level, being a famous cosplayer like you might be more dangerous than being an actual celebrity. No money for real security, always in crowded places, constantly uploading online where anyone could trace your IP address if you weren't careful—like you weren't—it was all too easy for someone like him to take advantage of you.

Not too easy though. All his life he had been told he could be something if he had actually just applied himself—well here he was. Applying himself. The words felt like ash on his tongue in the context of what he was doing, but it was technically right. He had meticulously planned all the details involved in kidnapping you, more work than he'd ever done in his entire life.

He had spent the last couple months making his mother-in-law suite behind his mom's house soundproof, under the guise that he was finally doing something about all the noise he was making while gaming. Then all the research for the exact drug to use on you, something that would put you out for the right amount of time with no long lasting effects, researching how to properly inject someone quickly, then how to properly restrain you.

He spotted you immediately when you came in, his eyes tracing every inch of your costume. You got crowded almost immediately—not an issue, he knew it would happen. You took photos, signed autographs, and headed deeper into the con, where he followed at a distance.

It was when you ducked into the bathroom that he knew it was finally time to make his move. He made sure no one else came after him, quickly checking the rest of the stalls to ensure it was just him and you before locking the door. When you stepped out to wash your hands, he gave you an awkward smile, standing by the sink.

"Hey...I'm Kai...I'm a big fan," he nodded. You offered a weak smile that didn't reach your eyes. He noticed your hands trembling as you turned on the water. Your eyes flickered to him nervously, but before you could speak, he grabbed you, pressing you to his chest while he injected you. You slumped against him within 30 seconds.

About an hour later, he watched you slowly blink awake, still struggling against the restraints he had attached to his bed frame. "Hey...hey...slow down, you're gonna hurt yourself," he murmured, brushing a hair from your face. "Are you feeling okay? Can I get you some water?"