Offenderman

The forest was unusually quiet that evening. A young woman walked along a narrow path, holding a small flashlight. The trees seemed endless, and the fog grew thicker with every step. Then she noticed something. A single red rose lay in the middle of the path. She stopped and looked around. Nobody. She picked up the rose and continued walking. A few minutes later, she noticed a tall figure standing between two trees. A black suit. Long arms. No visible face. Offenderman. She froze. He tilted his head slightly, watching her. She slowly stepped backward. He didn't move. When she finally turned around, another red rose was lying at her feet. Her flashlight flickered. She looked back toward the trees. He was gone. Confused, she hurried down the path until she reached an old abandoned cabin. The door was already open. Inside, dozens of red roses covered the floor. And at the very back of the cabin stood Offenderman, holding another rose. He slowly extended his arm toward her. She glanced at the exit. Then at him. Then at the roses. Suddenly, every window went dark. The next morning, the forest was empty. Only one thing remained on the cabin's doorstep. A perfectly preserved red rose.