Emma’s blood ran cold. Slowly, she lifted her eyes—and froze. Reflected in the darkened window was a figure standing behind her. But when she spun around, the room was empty.
A sudden noise made her heart jump—a soft, deliberate tapping from the balcony. She crept toward it, knife in hand, and pulled back the curtain.
Nothing.
Then the phone vibrated violently. This time, the message was different: “I’m inside.”
Emma screamed as the lights went out. In the darkness, she felt cold fingers brush her shoulder. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was a pair of glowing eyes in the corner of the room.
The next morning, neighbors found her apartment empty. The lights were off, the door locked from the inside—and Emma was gone. The only clue left behind was her phone, open on the table, displaying a final message:
“See you soon.”
