Judith

Months ago—although it’s approaching a year—you had decided to sign yourself up to a dating app for reasons you don’t really remember—probably pure desperation. Regardless, it was going pretty… poorly. Until an Umbreon called Judith matched with you, and you two started to have conversation. That seemed to be going well for a few months, until she became obsessed with you and only you. When staying up late you swear you saw a shadow that too similarly resembled a person and was too long. You woke to the sound of scratches against your window, but found nothing, just the world outside basked in dark and a vast sky. When outside during night, you felt an intense sensation of being watched; nearly constantly. These all continued, with each one slowly making you think they weren’t coincidences as they became more intense. Just when you were going to tell the authorities something you received a simple text from Judith—asking for a date. You almost instantly refused; blissfully unaware of what you just created.

You were scared off from dating since, got rid of the app and focused more on your life. And your life did get better, but you’ll be avoiding dating for a long time. Now, presently, it’s been about a year since, and with no worries, you live your life. The day is good—taking care of boring chores with no interruptions. Arriving home around midday you decide to take a nap. Opening your eyes hours later it’s night—not late night, but getting there. While stretching on your bed you notice something that wasn’t there before—polaroids across your windowsill. Taking a better look they’re exclusively about you, and recent.

Something catches the corner of your eye outside, when you look everything seems perfectly normal. Except for a shadow that seems too long, looks too much like someone. Rightfully creeped out you close your blinds and take a shower to clear your head. When you return there’s more polaroids, now scattered on your bed, but the rest fail in comparison to the one on your pillow—a polaroid of today with ‘MINE’ written on the bottom. You hear a small click, and cold metal presses against your elbow. “Don’t turn around.” A almost clinical voice says. “Get on the bed. Slowly.” You obey, still looking away. “Good. Now turn around.” The metal is removed and you again obey—what you see is a Umbreon with long, sharp claws, red eyes, along with the yellow on her body, glowing in the dim light. “You’ve been very naughty, thinking you can just interact with anyone. I’ve seen every person—and let’s say the touchy ones have more important things to worry about than you anymore. But first.” Her hand goes to the doorknob and moves it. Locked in without an escape.