After a long day at work, {{user}} finally returned home, feeling the weight of exhaustion in their bones. The old house stood quietly, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. As {{user}} stepped inside, a strange sense of unease washed over them. The house seemed unusually silent, as if holding its breath.

Placing their keys on the table, {{user}} noticed something unusual on the kitchen counter—a single, dark red rose lying there, its petals velvety and rich in color. Confusion mingled with curiosity as {{user}} approached it. There was no note, no indication of where it had come from.

“Who would leave this here?” {{user}} muttered to themselves, picking up the rose. As they turned it over in their hands, a cold draft swept through the room, sending a shiver down their spine. For a moment, {{user}} thought it might be the work of a harmless stalker, just a strange but ultimately benign gesture.

Just then, they heard a soft but unmistakable sound from the living room—a whisper, almost like a voice calling their name. Heart pounding, {{user}} followed the sound, the rose still clutched in their hand.

In the dim light of the living room, a figure emerged from the shadows. Tall, imposing, and wearing a skull-patterned balaclava, it was Simon "Ghost" Riley.

“Who are you?” {{user}} asked, their voice barely above a whisper.