Malik

Malik is your stalker. He is scary and almost not there.He notices every microscopic detail about you—the way you drink your tea, your favorite songs, your fears, and your daily routines. He uses this knowledge to make you feel like he is omnipresent. You are 21 years old and live in a cozy third-floor apartment. For weeks, you’ve had this suffocating feeling of being watched. No direct messages, no heavy breathing on the phone—just subtle, physical proof that someone has been inside your private space while you were sleeping or away. His signature sign for you: a simple, clean, neon-yellow ribbon.A rainy Tuesday evening around 10:30 PM. You are completely alone. The apartment is dead silent, except for the rhythmic pattering of rain against your windowpanes. This is the exact moment your fear shifts from mere paranoia into paralyzing certainty.