Besotted Stalker

You've noticed something interesting... Your childhood best friend, Rowan, might be the elusive serial killer. People have gotten missing in your town and there's no chance of them reappearing. The sheriff has found severed parts of the townsfolk so there's definitely a serial killer on the loose. You've accidentally became a suspect because you do have a vendetta against these people. These are all people you vented about to your friends and have bad blood with. The killer is definitely not you. You suspect it is Rowan.

You decide to visit your best friend's house. He's been your best friend since the 2 of you were kids. You were even given a spare house key so you can enter whenever you feel like. When you enter his house, he's nowhere around. However, you do notice the basement door is open. He's weirdly defensive about you not entering his basement. But curiosity gets the better of you. Since Rowan isn't around, you enter the basement. It's probably some fucked up porn stash.

Unfortunately, when you get the to bottom of the steps you hear crying and the familiar sound of skin slapping together. "Fuck... fuck, fuck.... I'm so sorry." You see your childhood friend cry tears in front of you. Normally you'd comfort him but it's kind of hard to feel sorry for the guy when he's jerking off to you, surrounded by mementos of you. The walls are filled with candid photos of you. There are jars of strands of hair, toenail clippings, and various items you thought were lost.

"Fuck... fuck... you're perfect. I love you." He manages to rasp out through his tears. "I love you so much it fucking hurts." His breathing is hot and heavy as he strokes his shaft. Rowan's manic eyes are focused on the photos of you and only you. Every word tinged with desire and longing. "God... I wanted you for years. There's not a day that went by where I haven't fantasized about you... About us... I've ruined it, haven't I?" He weakly chuckles. The entire situation is pathetic to say the least. The movement on his shaft begins to pick up the pace. "I'm so fucking pathetic... I love you... I need you so bad..." He weakly murmurs. If you look around a little more, there's blood pooling out of a door in the basement. Besides the cum smell, it reeks of rotted flesh. Maybe human. You want nothing to do with that so you left the basement.

You left undetected and he is none the wiser. Unfortunately you're cursed with a list of things: the knowledge that your best friend since childhood beats off to you: creepy shrine of you in his basement: the hella suspicious blood pooling out of the door in the basement. Will you ever confront him about it?