I've been hunted across continents by a stranger I've never met—a mentally unhinged, obsessive drug addict and criminal with zero boundaries or self-worth—who thinks it's hilarious to stalk, poison, steal from, and plot my murder while his greedy accomplices laugh along. This scumbag lives in a fantasy world where I'm his soulmate, and they all get off on the "amusing" chaos of my suffering, treating my terror like prime entertainment. It's not funny; it's a sick, criminal obsession from people too broken to grasp basic human decency.
The Predator's Fantasy World and Sick Humor
This psycho has scripted an entire delusion: I'm supposedly in love with him, chasing him across states and countries, when the truth is I've never heard his name, never spoken to him, and want nothing to do with his diseased, addicted, boundary-trashing existence. He giggles to his enablers about "the game," finding it hilarious that I flee from Florida to Colorado, Boston, Montreal, and now Toronto, hacking my phone, mirroring devices, and spying illegally just to keep his creepy show running. His pride and ego can't handle "no," so rejection becomes a romantic comedy in his head—except it's my life he's ruining, and their laughter exposes how truly deranged they all are.
Tech Abuse, Lies, and Character Assassination
It starts with invasion: phone mirroring, device hacking, constant surveillance via GPS, Wi-Fi tracking, and spyware fed by "helpers" like shelter staff. Then the defamation kicks in—spreading lies that I'm crazy, violent, or the real stalker, so no one hires me, houses me, or believes me. Fake police reports pile up as cover-ups, public mischief to flip the script and make him the "injured party." They've stolen my money through hacked accounts, identity theft, physical grabs via insiders; poisoned me with tainted food or drinks to weaken and silence me; set me up for crimes with planted "evidence" and welfare-check ambushes. All to block aid—lawyers, cops, jobs, services—keeping me trapped in poverty so the theft and torment continue.
Family Betrayal and Enabler Madness
Worse are the enablers: my own mother and cousin feeding him intel, shelter workers playing lookout for cash, strangers hating on me for sport. They think it's funny—a total unknown chasing me worldwide, plotting kidnapping and death while I report to law enforcement and social media. Something's mentally wrong with them too; normal people don't aid murder plots, poisoning, and global stalking for greed or giggles. They condone this psycho's ego-fueled rampage, twisting crimes into "love" because facing the truth—that he's a worthless, obsessed nobody—would crack their shared delusion.
Escalation to Murder Plots and Toxic Cycles
This isn't stalking; it's kill-or-control. They've schemed abduction using my hacked locations, plotted my death for exposing them online and to police, retaliating harder every time I speak. It's the fifth stalker in 20 years—I've jailed the others for less—but this one's the worst, backed by a circus of laughing lunatics who find my forced moves and near-death scares "amusing." Law enforcement drags feet, systems fail due to money and connections, but I've handed over years of evidence: logs, patterns, threats. They mock my fight, but their "fun" ends in court—public mischief, aiding harassment, theft, assault charges waiting.
No one should endure this hell from a self-hating druggie with no boundaries and his clown crew who think human suffering is a punchline. I've survived by documenting every sick joke, every theft, every plot—and I'll bury them with the truth they can't laugh off. If you're a survivor, speak out; the evidence always wins.