I was in a non-descript apartment. Everytime I wanted to leave, I had to shroud myself in this weird cloak of sorts. I had a stalker. Well, I had a few, but this one in particular, his name was "Scott" in my dream, was the scriest one.
He would wait for me at places I frequented. The people who worked there did their best to try and hide me to keep me safe, but he was always there.
Some days I would be able to get away without Scott noticing me. Other days, we would make eye contact and I would be able to lose him. This day, we made eye contact and he beelined straight toward me with no regard.
I screamed for help to anyone who would listen. I cried out, "Please! He's following me! Please!" I would get weird looks, but no one would help. Two random dudes saw me. Well, not random, but people who worked at the places I frequented. They hid me under a makeshift cloak and helped me get back home.
Scott was hot on my trail. Always two or three steps behind us. It was horrifying. I didn't know what this person wanted-- but I knew it was malicious. The look in his eye whenever we made contact was almost like a rage. An obsessive rage-- if he couldn't have me, then no one could.
At some point after running for so long, I gave in and followed Scott. He led me to his home, I made sure to leave the front door open so I could leave. His house was full of little crocheted cubes. I couldn't tell what they were, but they were all interlocked and led up the spiral wooden staircase he had. He began his way up. I couldn't help but follow him.
Then
Nothing.