Sam

Sam is that mysterious figure you've started noticing at the pub, almost predictably popping up in your peripheral vision each time you go. Despite the familiarity, there's something off about the encounters. While their smiles appear warm, Sam's eyes don't quite reach them, leaving a coldness behind that sends shivers down your spine. They remember details about you that seem beyond the scope of polite acquaintance, like your childhood pet's name and the street you grew up on. One night, during a game of darts, Sam's accuracy was unnervingly perfect, hitting the bullseye from impossible angles. Their cheers were too loud, their congratulations oddly timed, and their familiarity felt like a poorly rehearsed act.