Have You Ever Sold Anything on a Secondhand Platform? I’m a dedicated Lolita fashion enthusiast with a closet full of beautiful dresses. Due to the sheer number of styles and new pre-orders coming in, I often sell my older Lolita dresses online. One day while I was at work, my phone buzzed with a message. A user with a blank profile picture commented under one of my listings: “What kind of dress do you want? As long as you satisfy me, I can give you anything.” I immediately blocked him. What a creep. That evening, when I returned to my apartment, I found an opened package at my doorstep. Inside was a brand new “Heavenly Maiden” dress – the exact dress I had been eyeing but couldn’t afford… Looking at the exquisite dress on the floor, I immediately thought of that blank profile from earlier. There have been many such cases in the Lolita fashion community. Girls who love beautiful clothes but can’t afford them sometimes resort to selling their bodies in exchange for coveted collector’s items. This has created opportunities for ill-intentioned people who disguise themselves as wealthy benefactors on various secondhand platforms to prey on vulnerable girls. Why choose secondhand platforms? Simple. Brand new authentic pieces are too expensive for most to afford. But the “Heavenly Maiden” dress before me still had its tags attached, showing no signs of wear! Just then, my phone buzzed with a new friend request on SnapChat. The message attached made my blood run cold: “Did you receive the dress you like? I’m coming to collect my payment tomorrow. Make sure to wear it – I love seeing you in dresses.” The same blank profile picture, the same tone. How did he know I wanted the “Heavenly Maiden” dress? This Japanese version costs over $1000 on the market, considered the holy grail of Lolita fashion. I had never told anyone I wanted it, yet this mysterious person with the blank profile knew! Even more terrifying was the second half of his message. He’s coming tomorrow to collect payment! What kind of “payment” does he have in mind? Is it… me? Just then, I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairwell. The footsteps grew louder. Terrified, I quickly opened my door and secured the deadbolt. Before I could fully lock the door, the footsteps suddenly accelerated towards my apartment. A powerful force pushed against the door, straining the deadbolt. Through the narrow gap, I saw a pair of bloodshot eyes in a twisted face. “Ahh!” I couldn’t help but scream. Pushing back against his brute force, I used my last ounce of strength to turn the key and lock the door. After securing the lock, I collapsed to the floor. The violent pounding on the door continued, each thud hammering my frayed nerves. There’s a security camera in the hallway. With trembling hands, I took out my phone to check the feed. I saw a man nearly 6 feet tall wearing a hoodie and mask looking straight at the camera. He pulled down his mask, flashing an evil smile at the lens. There was a deep scar on his jaw, like an ugly centipede clinging to his neck, making him look sinister and terrifying. Then, he began mouthing words slowly, as if deliberately letting me read his lips. He said: “I want to fuck you.” I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I called my friend Kelly from the Lolita community. When she heard what happened, she immediately offered to come over. “No, I don’t know if he’s left yet. It’s too dangerous for you to come alone,” I said quietly, eyes still glued to the security feed. Kelly on the other end sounded angry but didn’t insist after hearing my strong objection. “Then keep in constant contact with me. Don’t hang up. I’ll bring people to check on you first thing in the morning.” It was already past midnight. Most of my friends were asleep except for night owl Kelly. All I could do was wait for dawn. Suddenly, I noticed some disturbed dust on the table in front of me, along with two cigarette butts smoked down to the filter. I don’t smoke, and I’ve been single for all 24 years of my life. So who do these belong to? My nerves instantly went on high alert. Kelly, sensing my silence, anxiously asked: “What’s wrong? Did something happen, Tina?” My voice trembled as I replied: “A man was in my apartment. There’s cigarette ash on the table…” Just as I finished speaking, the security feed flickered. A marble smashed into the camera, turning the screen to static. The sudden change startled me. My whole body shook uncontrollably. “I’m calling the police!” Kelly said before hanging up. The police arrived quickly. I showed them the security footage I had recorded. Though it was dark and unclear, the prominent scar on the man’s neck was unmistakable. “We’ll investigate and locate this person as soon as possible. We’ll also increase patrols in your area,” the young officer said. I nodded numbly. “Is anyone still outside?” “No.” I followed the officers out of my apartment. The sky was just starting to lighten. Apart from the diligent street cleaners, there wasn’t a soul in sight. “I’m sorry for troubling you,” I said, forcing a smile. The young officer waved it off. “No trouble at all. Call us anytime if anything happens.” I didn’t dare stay in my apartment any longer. Kelly offered to let me stay with her. So, with the officers’ escort, I quickly packed some essentials and moved in with Kelly. The next day passed uneventfully. Just as I was starting to relax, my landlord called, immediately launching into an angry tirade. “Tina! Is this how you treat the apartment I rented to you?” I was confused. “I’ve been staying at a friend’s place. I haven’t even been back…” The landlord hung up and quickly sent some photos on SnapChat. They showed my living room in complete disarray, and even the bedding was torn to shreds. I broke out in a cold sweat. If I had been home last night, would I now be a cold corpse? Kelly saw the horrifying images too and kept trying to comfort me. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re safe here.” Hearing her gentle reassurances, I gradually calmed down, leaning on her shoulder. The police were working quickly to find the suspect, but unfortunately hadn’t made any progress yet. I hadn’t dared go to work for two days, afraid the psycho might follow me and cause trouble for Kelly. But my worst fear came true anyway. That night, Kelly and I had changed into pajamas and were about to go to sleep after finishing a TV show. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. All traces of sleepiness vanished instantly. I instinctively moved closer to Kelly. “Don’t be scared. I installed a deadbolt. He can’t get in,” Kelly said, stroking my hair reassuringly. The knocking didn’t stop. Instead, it grew more forceful. Bang! Bang! Bang! Fists pounded against the security door, the sound like the footsteps of the Grim Reaper closing in through the night. Kelly pulled up the security camera feed on her phone. It was the same man with the ugly scar on his neck. He grinned at the camera, baring his teeth. Then he took out a can of spray paint and scrawled a crude message on the wall: “Don’t hide from me. I love you.” He placed a package at the door, then put on a hat and mask, repeatedly looking up at the camera. Then the phone screen suddenly turned to static as the hallway camera crackled with electricity. Same person, same Lolita dress, same destroyed camera. As the electric crackling faded, my body began to shake uncontrollably. Kelly gripped my hand and placed a taser in my palm. She whispered soothingly: “It’s okay. He can’t get in.” Once again, I didn’t sleep a wink that night. Kelly called the police, but the culprit was highly vigilant and disappeared into the night after destroying the camera. The same young officer came. He looked gravely at the spray-painted message on the wall, then turned to me with a serious expression. “Miss Tina, please come to the station to give a statement. I’ll request additional police protection from my superiors.” I nodded. Kelly stayed by my side the whole time, constantly trying to calm my frayed nerves. At the police station, I slowly regained my composure. The young officer asked a few questions. When he learned that I didn’t know the stalker, he frowned slightly. “If you don’t know him, Miss Tina, how did he get your address?” Hearing the officer’s question, I thought carefully before shaking my head firmly. “I would never give out my address.” Then I suddenly remembered my account on the secondhand sales platform. The blank profile appeared and completely disrupted my peaceful life. I took out my phone, found my account on the platform, and handed it to the officer. “Could it be related to my package deliveries? I have a lot of Lolita dresses at home, so I often sell them here.” The young officer’s eyes lit up when he heard this. He carefully examined my account. With my permission, he transferred the account to the police department’s phone before arranging for someone to take Kelly and me back to her place. That night, neither Kelly nor I could sleep. So she took some beer from the fridge, turned on a comedy on the projector, and snapped a photo to post on her social media. Kelly is a minor internet celebrity who often shares daily life and Lolita fashion photos on platforms like Instagram and TikTok. I grabbed a bottle and slowly sipped it while watching the comedy. Kelly was replying to followers’ comments on her apps. The comedy failed to hold my interest. Feeling bored, I also opened Kelly’s social media to look at the comments and reposts. Suddenly, my finger froze. Among the viewers, I saw an all too familiar blank profile picture. With trembling fingers, I tapped on it. When I saw the bio, a cold sweat instantly broke out on my back. The phone slipped from my hand. Before the screen went dark, Kelly saw the message: “Stop looking. Let me love you properly!” The profile picture was a selfie of me! Kelly’s face went pale when she saw the message. We’re close friends who love taking selfies together when we hang out. So at least a third of the content on her Instagram features me. But this innocent habit between girlfriends had now landed us in such a predicament. I didn’t dare think about it anymore. After sending this account to the young officer, I tried to calm myself down. Kelly quickly deactivated her account without even posting an explanation. An indescribable chill seeped into my bones. I felt like I was going crazy. Every time I closed my eyes, I couldn’t help but picture that terrifying man with the centipede-like scar on his neck. He was advancing towards me step by step. His bloodshot eyes stared at me intently, like a predator eyeing its prey. Lunging at me frantically! When I opened my eyes, I was drenched in cold sweat. Kelly was sitting by the bed, looking at me with concern. “We’re not going anywhere for a while. We’ll stay here until that psycho is caught,” she said. She’s always been gentle and understanding. I managed a weak smile and agreed. I didn’t give much explanation to my company, just using feeling unwell as an excuse to take an extended leave. Kelly is a freelancer who can work from home. To avoid any incidents, we minimized going out. After buying nearly two weeks’ worth of groceries, we locked ourselves in. Nothing unusual happened for the next few days. The young officer also messaged me, saying they had tracked the IP address and would catch the culprit in a few days. A week passed like this. Just when I thought we were finally safe… Early that morning, a coworker I rarely talk to outside of work suddenly sent me a photo. The woman in the picture was seductive and alluring, with a curvaceous figure and fair thighs spread wide open as if inviting sin. Then, like a floodgate opening, more and more explicit photos came pouring in. Various poses, all designed to inflame desire. Most importantly, the face in the photos… Was mine. Seeing the photos, I felt like I had been doused with a bucket of ice water. My coworker’s messages kept coming: “Is this really you in the photos?” “I never knew you were so wild.” “How much for one night? 200 bucks for the whole night, what do you say?” Fighting back nausea, I blocked him and broke down crying. As a Lolita fashion enthusiast, I’m quite the selfie expert. But I would never take photos like these. Someone clearly used my photos for malicious photoshopping! There had been no trace of that man for a week. But I was certain – it must be him! Messages on my phone kept pouring in. I steeled myself to look at the screen. It was from my manager. “Tina! I didn’t say anything about your extended leave, but now you’re bringing your private affairs to tarnish the company’s reputation? What are you trying to do?” “Don’t bother coming back. Go to HR to collect your final paycheck and get out!” Each message felt like a tidal wave, shattering my already broken heart into even smaller pieces. It was as if the last shred of dignity covering me had been ripped away, exposing my raw wounds to the air, making my whole body ache and tremble with pain. Kelly heard the commotion and rushed over. When she saw those photos, her face grew very serious. As my best friend for three years, she of course knew I had never taken such photos. But it didn’t matter. The rumor mill is unstoppable. When she accompanied me back to the company to collect my things, All my coworkers kept stealing glances at me. Those looks… Contempt, boldness, disgust. Even some usually quiet male colleagues came up and lewdly asked if I was available. Kelly kicked that guy away and escorted me out of the company. After going through so much, my nerves were completely shot. I became afraid of sunlight and didn’t dare go out. I stayed home all day, staring blankly at the walls. Kelly understood my changes and patiently kept me company. My sleep quality plummeted. I couldn’t sleep for nights on end. Another sleepless night. I walked out of the bedroom to get some water from the living room. The pale moonlight shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows cast an eerie glow on the living room. I didn’t turn on the lights, following the moonlight to find the water dispenser. Suddenly, a clothes hanger fell from the balcony. Ding. At that moment, a dark shadow blocked the moonlight in front of me. That shadow… was a person! My heart started racing uncontrollably. My hand holding the glass began to shake. Accompanied by the crisp sound of glass shattering on the floor, I slowly raised my head. The shadow instantly blocked all the moonlight. In the darkness, our eyes met. His eyes glinted with a predatory light. In the faint moonlight, I vaguely saw his face. One glance was enough to make me scream at the top of my lungs! The man was clearly startled by my scream. Then, he dove off the balcony! My terror froze in an instant. Kelly heard my scream and rushed out of the bedroom in a panic. Still in shock, I recounted what had just happened. She turned on the lights and grimly led me to the balcony, where we saw dirty footprints. Kelly sucked in a sharp breath. “I live on the 12th floor.” To preserve evidence, we didn’t clean up the footprints. Instead, we called the police to handle it. Normally, jumping from the 12th floor would result in hitting the ground within five seconds. The impact of a body hitting the ground would make a dull thud, but I hadn’t heard any sound. Could someone actually fly? Learning from the two previous incidents, the police responded very quickly. They also brought good news. “We’ve identified the person who’s been stalking Miss Tina,” said Officer James, spreading out the collected information in front of me. His face showed visible fatigue, but couldn’t hide his joy. “His name is Eric Lee. He was imprisoned three years ago for attempted assault and released last year. He has a criminal record.” “He’s an orphan who usually makes a living through robbery and scams. I tracked the account you gave us and found that you always ship packages from near your home.” “Coincidentally, Eric lives in the same city as Miss Tina, so he staked out the shipping locations, disguised himself as a delivery man to enter your complex and scout it out, and finally determined your home and work addresses.”
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