This was about 5 years ago, when I had just turned 17.

As we finished having a rather pleasant time, he declared that he loved me and wanted to begin a relationship. I was totally weirded out, the way he stared into my eyes with a gormless expression as he said it still makes me feel uneasy. I agreed out of survival instincts and told the creep that I loved him too. I did not want to upset this man.

Skipping the awkward conversation, and flawless acting skills on my behalf, he went to take a quick shower- so I began to take in my surroundings. He had just asked me to stay the night so I hesitantly agreed as to not upset him and decided to try and make myself familiar with the building.

Now he said this place was his house. He'd told me not to touch of move anything, as his housemates were very strict. But I noticed his room had no personal belongings at all, minus a couple of collection of random junk which seemed more like the contents of a bag scattered around than actual room items. It was insanely clean, and empty. I got up to have a snoop in the wardrobes only to find that they were completely bare, minus a few shirts identical to the one he was wearing.

I was feeling really uncomfortable at this point, especially after I recalled how he had me veet my entire body neck down, before our encounter. Adding this to the list of recent revelations I was low-key freaking out.

As I was walking back to the bed, I noticed two books half hidden on the floor, covered by his jeans. I picked them up to read "The shrine of Jeffrey Dahmer" and another, with a big ol portrait Dean Corll on the cover. I did not take the time to read the title of that book.

I noped my gay-ass out of there swiftly and efficiently without a sound. I'm not sure if I narrowly escaped becoming someone's personal torture-twink/main course meal, or if he was just really weird but harmless. But I must say I value my survival over curiosity any day