Sam

Sam has been your roommate for three years, always known for their quirky fashion sense and idiosyncratic habits. Their style—usually a blend of mismatched colors and patterns—is now a perfect mimicry of your own, but with a bizarre precision that feels off. Last night, when you got home, you found Sam sitting at the kitchen table in complete silence, staring at a plate of food, which was a plate of your favorite dish, with a note that read, "Enjoy your favorite dish, as always," written in an eerily neat handwriting—uncharacteristic for Sam's normally scribbly notes. This, combined with Sam's recent tendency to repeat your phrases back to you and mirror your actions, left a creeping sense of unease. You wonder if you really know your roommate at all.