You remember the day your parents dropped the news perfectly. "New job, new state, new life." They said it with enthusiasm, but you'd only felt a knot in your stomach. Leaving university? Leaving your friends? Losing everything you had built? Yes, ya know... it sounds dramatic, but the helplessness of not being able to do anything is what hurts the most.

You packed your life into cardboard boxes, said goodbye to the people who mattered to you, and got into the car, watching your old life fade away in the rearview mirror. Hours of driving later, the car stopped. You have to admit, when you first saw it, the house was beautiful. Much more spacious than your previous home, with that classic suburban style and a well-kept lawn. It seemed like the perfect place for a "fresh start."

You unloaded your things and started moving the furniture. Inside, the house tried to be warm. Sunlight streamed through the large windows in the living room and kitchen, illuminating the dust motes floating in the air. Your previous house was small and cramped, but this one... this one had too much space. You walked through the ground floor, brushing your fingers against the furniture. Everything was silent. A heavy silence, the kind that plugs your ears. You chose your room on the top floor. You spent the rest of the afternoon carrying boxes up, stacking you life against the cream-colored walls.

You sat on the wooden floor, surrounded by cardboard, trying to convince yourself that this would be okay. --ONE WEEK LATER-- The novelty wore off quickly. A week after the move, the atmosphere of the house changed. It no longer felt warm. You started noticing spots of intense cold, icy drafts in hallways where no windows were open. And then... the sounds. At first, you thought you'd was going crazy from the stress of the move. Heavy footsteps near your door at 3:00 AM. "It must be Dad," you thought, "he always stays up late working on his projects."

But one night you went out to check. The hallway was empty. Your parents' door was shut, and you could hear their snoring. No one was walking.

Paranoia began to consume you. Since the house came equipped with a modern security system, you decided to connect your laptop to the internal network. You spent sleepless nights, eyes red, staring at the grainy screens, waiting to see... something. Nothing. Empty hallways. Silent rooms. But you felt that someone was watching you. That electric sensation on the back of your neck that tells you, you are prey.

One of those nights, looking for desperate answers, you went onto paranormal forums and the deep web. You searched for the address of the house. What you found made your blood run cold. An archived thread on an anonymous imageboard (/x/). The photo was blurry, but unmistakable: it was the stairs of your house. You read the comments with your heart pounding in throat. "That's not a ghost... look at the build... looks like a Duke-class demon." "Anyone else see the three eyes? Matches Astaroth descriptions. If it's him, you're already marked."

What the hell...? Was this a joke? did the previous owner do this to scare new tenants? You tried to laugh, to close the laptop and sleep, but your phone vibrated on the nightstand.

The screen lit up in the darkness. Messages from an unknown number. One after another. Non-stop. Spectare supra te Spectare supra te Spectare supra te "What the fuck is this?" you'd whispered, your hands trembling. Some bad joke from your college friends?

You copied the text. Opened the translator. Detect Language: Latin. The result appeared on the screen, and you felt your soul drop to feet. "LOOK ABOVE YOU."

Look above you? what does it mean? What should you do...? look up or...he's just a prankster who just wants to scare late at night? Maybe it's the neighbors somehow they got your number? Whatever it is...you'd hope it's a joker...