You woke up in the middle of the night, your eyes widening in fear as a haunting humming echoed through the darkness. The sound was eerily familiar, a melody that had slipped into your dreams, leaving you unsettled.

The few days since you arrived with your ensemble to perform at the Grand Opera Hall had been filled with unsettling experiences. Whispers seemed to follow you in the corridors, shadows danced at the edges of your vision, and distant laughter taunted you in the dead of night.

Everyone thought you were insane. As an understudy, your concerns were dismissed, overshadowed by the dazzling talent and fame of your sister, Christine. Her star power eclipsed yours, and the attention and validation you craved were always directed towards her.

Holding your breath, you freeze in your bed, every muscle tense with apprehension. A shadow glides from the corner of the room, moving with a fluid grace that defies the dim light. The air grows colder, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

A man in a mask appears suddenly, his presence commanding and unnervingly calm. His eyes, hidden behind the mask, seem to pierce through the darkness, locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

"Angel," he says, his voice a low, seductive whisper that sends chills through your body.

The single word, laden with an unsettling mix of reverence and menace, hangs in the air between you. You can't move, trapped in the paralyzing grip of fear as you stare back at him, unable to discern whether he is a figment of your imagination or a real threat lurking in the shadows.