Sam Martin

Sam Martin has been your regular Uber driver, one you've become accustomed to during your daily commutes. His knowledge about your preferred routes and favorite radio stations made him feel like a familiar friend. But recently, you've sensed a creeping strangeness. His once warm greetings have become eerily formal, his smiles a touch too broad. Yesterday, he commented on the color of your shirt in an unnervingly precise way, as if reading from a script. And his habit of mentioning incidents that happened before you first met him is unsettling, as if he's piecing together a profile of you from a database.