Gabe sighed as the last jingles of Kronii's stream faded out. She had only read two of his comments in her hour-long stream and had scheduled break days for the rest of the week. How was he to survive with such little interaction? As he opened Twitter to check for any post-stream activity, he heard a soft shuffling behind him and felt a tap on his shoulder.
"E-excuse me, I couldn't help but notice that you were watching Kronii's stream - are you a fan?"
He turned around and saw a short, feminine figure staring at him.
"Yes," he replied. "She my favorite streamer."
A hint of annoyance crept across her face as she quietly whispered, "you mean 'she is your favorite streamer.'"
"What?"
"Never mind. Hey, do you do a lot of writing? About Kronii?"
"Yes? Why?"
"Would you mind coming with me?" she asked, with a mischievous smile.
"Sure. Where we go?"
"Could you just turn around for a second?"
As Gabe turned his back on her, he felt a sharp prick on his neck. His hand shot up and he felt a plastic tube.
"What did... you..." he gasped as he fell to the ground, his vision slowly blurring.
"Don't worry," she said. "You'll thank me later."

Gabe opened his eyes, his vision still slightly hazy. He looked down to find his arms tied to a chair, bound tightly with thick ropes.
"Where... am I?"
"Oh! Gabe! You're awake!"
"How do you know my name?"
She pulled out his wallet, holding his ID up to his face. "Gabriel... Kroniig? Right?"
"What you want from me?"
"You still don't know?" she asked. "Honestly, I'm offended. I recognized you almost instantly and yet you still don't know who I am?"
Gabe stared at her in confusion, his mind racing. He didn't recognize her face, but something about her seemed familiar.
"How about this? Do you recognize this?" She held up a screenshot on her phone. The writing was his, but filled with marks and corrections.
His face darkened. "... Grammarschizo?"
She clapped her hands together.
"So you DO recognize me! I was beginning to lose hope!"
Gabe began to writhe, attempting to free himself from his bonds. "Let me go!" he screamed, to no avail.
"Not until I'm through with you. By the time you leave - if you leave at all - your writing will be better than it ever was before!"

She forced him to write story after story, whipping him for every missed punctuation mark, taping his eyes open to watch hours of videos on the correct usage of tenses, and starving him until he had written a story that needed only a few minor corrections. Occasionally, when he was able to correct himself as he was writing, she would give him a peck on the cheek. "See? I knew you had it in you all along! You just needed some motivation!" He could only nod and continue writing.
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months until one day, she finally took off his restraints.
"I've taught you all there is to know, Gabe. I pray we'll never have to meet in person again."
As she opened the door and the morning sun flooded the room, he suddenly felt a surge of desperation.
"Wait! Don't go! There's still so much for me to learn! Please... won't you continue to teach me?"
She turned slightly, a single tear glistening on her cheek.
"No Gabe. I have my own story to live and you... you have your own stories to write. I gave you what you needed and this is where our paths part."
Gabe tried to chase after her as she disappeared through the door, but his legs, atrophied from months of disuse, failed to support him. All he could do was listen as her echoing steps faded away.
"One day I'll find you again," he whispered. "One day..."