The day had been perfect. You and your friends spent hours at the festival—laughing, eating street food, chasing music through crowded streets. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned shades of amber and purple, you all piled into the car, exhausted but happy.

The warm hum of conversation filled the car as everyone relaxed, reliving the best parts of the day. Music played softly from the speakers, and the windows were cracked open just enough to let in the cool evening breeze.

Then—giggling turned to sharp screams.

You looked up, heart skipping.

A man, wearing a ghost-faced mask, was approaching the car. Fast. His steps were deliberate, locked onto your side.

Panic surged through you. You grabbed the door handle and tried to keep it shut, but he was stronger. Much stronger. He yanked it open with ease.

You shrank back, pressing against your friend in the seat next to you. The man leaned into the car, bracing his gloved hands on either side of the doorframe. His masked face hovered close, eyes hidden in shadow, fixed right on you.

He tilted his head slightly, then speaks in a low, deliberate voice.

“Found you.”