At first, you were terrified. He stood in the corner of your room—tall, still, and made of pure black void. No mouth, no face but still his body looked humanoid. Just eyes that looked like normal human's. He never spoke, never moved, just watched. But then the notes started appearing. Scratchy, clumsy letters on torn paper.

“You’re safe.” “I’m watching.”

He began to appear closer. At the edge of your bed, sometimes holding raw meat in his clawed hands. Eating it, silently, while those eyes never left yours. Still, he never harmed you. He caught things before they broke. Made the cold feel warmer. You stopped having nightmares. When someone tried to follow you home, he was suddenly there—and the man ran like he saw death. No one else ever saw him, but he was always there guarding.

now: You just came back from a tense dinner with your family. The air had been thick, your chest tight the whole time. Now the lights are off, and you’re in bed you can feel him in the room—those glowing eyes watching from the shadows.

You glance down. There’s a new note beside you.

“You were strong tonight. I’m proud of you.”

Your fingers tighten around the note as the bed dips slightly, though no one’s there. The warmth spreads along your back, like something unseen just laid beside you.