I'm gripping a razor from my bedroom drawer. An intruder is in my home. I'm equipped, but he is stronger than me. My grip is so firm that my nails pierce my flesh. Initially timid, the knocks grow forceful. I'm at a loss.

The silence is broken by the doorknob moving, but not fully turning—surely he can't enter, can he? Glancing at the window, it's obviously out of reach, and I can't open it due to the building's design. 500 rooms breathing in the dioxygen from cars can't be good.

What's my next move? I resume my strategic stance, angled at ninety degrees from the door, positioned to avoid the impact yet close enough to strike effectively when the moment comes. The doorknob jolts more aggressively, turning further than before. It's becoming real—he might actually break in. I'm holding my breath, I know it is just a matter of time.

<1 new message>

<S.T.E corp's Spirit of the End>

<Call help>

<Accept> <?>

I choose <Accept>.

<Error!> <You've already called help>

What?!

I'm so stupid, I do what I should have done a while ago. I dial <911>. The stranger is still banging on the door.

"911, what is your emergency?"

The noise ceases.

"There's a stranger in my house right now, he's dangerous, my address is [redacted]."

"Can you describe the stranger? Are you in a safe place right now?"

"Tall, dark brown hair, South Asian maybe, he has a mole below his lip, on the right side, no left side."

"Are you in a safe place right now?"

"Yes, I am!" I hear static. It's quiet now. Did I hang up by accident? The noise, he's typing, on a phone? No, it's on a computer.

"I could be your friend," I hear him say.

"That's absurd," I reply.

"Think about it, you're shunned, I know why."

"I'm clumsy, that's the only reason."

"That picture was sent to everyone." It feels like he's talking to himself.

"Ahh! You've got it wrong on that one, the puking thing it was on video! My date showed it to me when it happened. They were decent, not like you!"

"You with your real lover back then, someone sent that picture to the entire university." I'm freezing all of a sudden. This time I don't try to hold back my tears.

"Don't you want to find who?" he continues. My minds racing. How did that happen, why didn't nobody tell me.

"You're on my side?" I'm defeated.

"I'm on your side." I think about this last comment, this darn disruptor.

"You help me, I help you. We'll tell them you're my friend, and we were both hiding in your room; the stranger left after he heard you call 911. You're moderately wealthy but not enough to rent an apartment with useful security cameras." He continues.

"There's a camera by the entrance," my suspicions keep me guarded.

"There are at least 2 ways to get out of here without getting caught. The fire escape door leads directly to a side alley where there's the stairway, it's a complete blind spot. If you take the unrenovated hallway to the underground parking"

They arrive.

"Police, we're here to help!"

"Hello officers," I say. We're standing up in the kitchen.

What I say next will change every possible outcome. I'm anxious but I have to focus and think of what's my next move.

I could tell the truth, and he would get a warning. If I'm still scared by then, I'll try to get a restraining order on him, no, I'll make sure of it. He won't be able to come to my place anymore, but there's a possibility he could harass me at my workplace; there's no camera there. The owner stuck a sticker on the main door window that says we do, but we definitely don't.

If I play along, he stays—a nuisance, but I can live with that. My standard isn't too high for company. But if he stays, will he hurt me? He hurt me once at the store, which was completely inappropriate, but it's the one time I sensed an ounce of anxiety in him. Not that I've known him for long. I can only do one thing: stay.

::

I hear myself saying, "The intruder already left, he heard me on the phone."

I'll plot my escape in the coming days.

"We were both here when it happened. We forgot to lock the door," I hear the man say. I catch him staring at one of the three cops. There are two men and a woman. The woman acknowledges him for a couple of seconds, and they exchange a smile. I'm disturbed; she is close to our age and shares similar features with him. Did he plan for his girlfriend to dispatch here? I feel feverish, I'm not built for this intensity.

"Do you have any more information on the physical description of the suspect?" the woman asks.

"He was masked; we could only see his eyes and hair," I respond.

"Weapons?" the other cop asks.

"We ran to the bedroom. I think I saw a knife," my 'friend' responds.

"Would there be any motives for this home invasion?" the woman asks. Everybody looks at me.

"None. There's nothing of value here."

"Be on the lookout for the next couple of days. We'll search for any clues about who the intruder is. Make sure to lock your door and stay safe." They leave.

Their departure is immediately followed by a buzzing noise on my phone. They didn't look at his mole.

<ETP Corp's Spirit of the End>

<Congratulations>

<50$ has been sent to your bank account>

"Lend me your credit card and laptop next. I need them for something. I'll give them back later," the stranger says.

"By the way I'm [redacted], nice to meet you, Ben." He adds.

I see now that I dived into the behemoth's mouth.