“Wait, you’re that guy who won’t leave me alone. I don’t believe this crap. How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t difficult,” I responded. “Your profile gave away the clues.”

“Get the hell out now!”

“You were very cruel,” I said.

“You kept writing about death and suffering. It was sick, and it didn’t even make any sense.”

“Did you really even read it?”

She pointed to the door. “Get out now or I’m calling the cops!”

“No! Now it’s time for you to listen to me.”

She lunged toward the door, but I pulled her to the ground and placed my hands around her neck.

“Why are you doing this?” she screamed, kicking furiously and flopping on the ground. My grip tightened and she went limp.

“Because of your reviews,” I answered, dragging her outside the doors and into the woods behind her little coffee shop.

I spent the next several minutes tying her up and she came to as it began to rain. I put on my leather gloves, unsheathed my hunting knife, and watched as she struggled against the braided yellow ropes.