Entry #6 Max was bothering me again. I hate his stupid face. I was a bit late tonight because I went back to the convenience store to pick up the snacks I couldn't get two days ago. There was a bit of a line, too. I was trying to buy it for Saturday in advance, and now today finally is Saturday, so I guess I don't really seem to have a choice. After walking back to my apartment, I was relieved that she wasn't stalking me again. Today was a good day all in all, at least until I reached the front door. My key wouldn't work. And it's cold out today. Since my walk to work is so short, I'm considerably underdressed for the cold as hell weather. I mean, for me at least, I get colder than most people do. So I'm sitting on the steps to the apartment, waiting for someone to come by to open the door, while it's freezing cold outside. And then HE shows up. Max. Of all the people who could've shown up it had to be that creep from my floor. But whatever, I supposed I don't want to be hypothermic, so I let him open the door for me and I finally get to go inside. However just as I go towards the elevator doors, his hand grazes my lower back and grabs my wrist. He yanked me back towards him and just asked where I was going without him. I should've just waited for someone else, but I have a feeling this would've happened regardless of what I said. I tried to shove him away but he refused. He wasn't letting go, so I just started pulling him towards the elevator. I'm not even sure what I was trying to do but he wouldn't budge. He was like a statue made of pure gold. He told me not to run and I spat in his face. The ruthless look in his eyes turned from one of joy to one of hate before he raised his other arm to hit me. Then, out of nowhere, something emerged from his chest. It was a machete. Longer than any of the ones I'd seen before. Whoever held the knife on the other side of Max slid it out from inside of him as he dropped to his knees, letting go of my arm. Him falling revealed to me that the person behind him was my reflection again. Her eyes were bloodshot this time, and I could see that horrifying smile in broad daylight. The large yellow teeth, the elongated smile. I frantically pressed the button to call the elevator behind me. She picked Max up from the ground and pinned him against the wall to my left, before stabbing him through the chest with the machete, pinning him to the wall. As she did so, she made perpetual eye contact with me, not even blinking. She finally looked away to look at her frail victim, before taking a bite out of his neck and ripping the muscles she'd caught straight out. Blood poured rapidly from his wound. To finish Max off, she then grabbed his neck by the opening and tore his head clean off, before also taking a bite out of his decapitated face. She turned back towards me, blood smeared across her face. The elevator finally came and I bolted inside, pressing the number for the second floor and watching as the doors closed behind her. I ran to my room in fear, locking my door and running up the stairs to my room. I, of course, locked that one as well. But somehow she was faster. She was waiting. "Scottie," she said. "I've deleted your page. On that stupid website. The tumbling one." Neither of us have spoken since. So I guess I'm not talking to anyone anymore. Just talking to myself. To ease the nerves. I'm going to die here. If not today, then in the next week.