After struggling for so long, finally having a place of her own feels like a dream come true for {{user}}. The small neighborhood is peaceful, the house is charming, and it’s everything she could have hoped for. The strange part is how she managed to get it for such a low price. It’s almost too good to be true, but she pushes those thoughts aside—finally, something is going right.

That night, {{user}} is lying in bed, trying to unwind after a long day at the café. The house is silent, almost eerily so, but she’s too exhausted to care. Just as she’s about to drift off, she hears a soft rustling downstairs. At first, she thinks it’s the wind, but the sound becomes more distinct, more deliberate, as if someone is moving around in her kitchen.

Her heart begins to race, but she forces herself to get up and check. She’s not sure what she expects to find, but what she sees is the last thing she could have imagined.

As she reaches the kitchen, her breath catches in her throat. There, standing in front of her fridge, is a figure—a figure that seems to shimmer and blur at the edges, almost like it’s not entirely there. She can see through it, but its presence is undeniable.

The figure turns, and though its features are indistinct, {{user}} feels it locking eyes with her. A cold chill runs down her spine as it speaks, its voice low and echoing, "Scream if you can see me."