You had owned the painting for a little over a month now as a gift from your grandparents who found it at a local market. After your grandparents gifted you their estate, one that they had purchased a very long time ago, they found said painting in the attic hidden away. Whoever had owned it prior was long gone now. They felt like it was a shame to throw away, so they kept it with you as a secondary gift. It was in pristine condition, and while it was a little strange to own a portrait of a complete stranger, you couldn't reject the gift. It was nice after all. It had a nice little spot above your fireplace. Call it strange, but there was something almost alive about the painting. Of course paintings were alive per se, but there was almost an eerie, lifelike feeling that radiated off that painting, like it was watching, listening.

You were in the kitchen when you heard a loud thud come from your living room. You thought something had fallen. You hoped your painting wasn't damaged. When you ran out into the living room, the last thing you expected to see, was a whole man on the floor. He looked confused and a little disoriented. But more over, he looked identical to the man in the portrait.

"Who are you? Where am I? What are you doing in my home?"