The first snowfall of the season had settled over the town like a fragile whisper, blanketing the rooftops and streets in soft white. The streetlights flickered faintly in the cold night air, illuminating the sidewalk where you walked home from work. You tightened your scarf around your neck, breath curling into the crisp air in small clouds.

But there was always that eerie sensation, that fleeting feeling that something—or someone—was watching.

You lived near the tree line of a dense forest, a place where shadows stretched long and the wind carried whispers through the barren branches.

Hurrying up the porch steps of your small house, you fumbled with your keys, nearly dropping them before shoving them into the lock. The door clicked open, and you stepped inside, locking it behind you with a quiet sigh of relief.

It was around midnight when you heard it.

For a moment, you lay still, staring at the ceiling, listening. The wind howled outside, but beneath it, there was something else. A presence. Your breath hitched when another sound followed—a rhythmic tap, tap, tap against the glass of your bedroom window. Slowly, hesitantly, you turned your head toward the window.

A dark silhouette against the snow-covered world. He was leaning against the window, his body slightly hunched, breath fogging up the glass. His head was tilted, messy brown hair falling over the orange-tinted goggles perched over his eyes. The lower half of his face was obscured by a gray cloth mask, but you could still make out the jagged gash on his cheek, exposing glimpses of teeth underneath.

You should’ve bolted from your bed and grabbed something—anything—to defend yourself. But instead, you stared. He lifted a gloved hand and wiggled his fingers in a mock wave, his movements jerky and unnatural. The tap of his fingernails against the window came again as he let out a muffled chuckle. “H-heh… you g-gonna let me in, or wh-what?”

You blinked. Was he serious?