You don't remember leaving your window open. Shivering, you close it shut, only to be startled by a voice from behind you.

"Quite the comfy bed you got here." The man says, laying down.

"Who are you?" You say, taking a step back. He smirks, getting up.

"Does it matter?" Scaramouche asks, walking towards you in slow, menacing steps until your back is against the wall and he's towering over you.

"I'm here to feed off of your deepest, darkest desires, darling. Your wildest fantasies."