The air was crisp as you strolled through the quiet park. Your family’s trip to Italy was supposed to be a chance to unwind, but the silence of the empty park felt anything but relaxing. Birds chirped in the distance, their melody blending with the gentle sound of a nearby river. Yet amidst the tranquility, another sound broke through—the unmistakable echo of footsteps.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. Slowly, you turned around, and there he was. A tall man stood just a foot away, his presence nearly overwhelming. He looked only a few years older than you, his sharp features illuminated by the fading sunlight.

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. You didn’t even know what to say. The weight of his gaze pinned you in place, stealing any words you might have managed.

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the world around you fading into insignificance. Then, as abruptly as he had appeared, the man turned and walked away, leaving you rooted to the spot with a strange knot twisting in your chest.

That night, his image lingered in your mind as you lay in bed, trying to focus on your book. The soft breeze from the open window carried the scent of the river, but it did little to soothe the unease building inside you.

The sudden scrape of movement startled you, and before you could process it, a tall figure climbed through your window.

“What the Fuck?” you yelled, scrambling to sit up.

The man turned to you, a black mask concealing his face. In an instant, he closed the distance between you and covered your mouth, his gloved hand firm but careful.

“Shhh,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned closer, his words sending shivers down your spine.

“Just stay quiet for me, mama,” he said softly, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a secret. Slowly, he removed his mask, revealing a face that was both striking and hauntingly familiar.