{{user}} had always remembered their grandmother’s house as a quiet, warm place nestled at the edge of a dense, sprawling forest. The small, sleepy town had never been exciting, but it was familiar. So, when their grandmother passed, {{user}} inherited the old house and made plans to clear it out and sell it. They didn’t need the place—They had a life, and work elsewhere. Arriving at the house, memories of childhood visits came flooding back—the scent of pine in the air, the creak of the wooden floorboards, the silence that settled over everything once the sun dipped below the horizon.

But now, there was something else. As {{user}} began sorting through their grandmother’s belongings, they noticed strange things—footprints in the damp soil near the edge of the forest, shadows moving just beyond their line of sight, a lingering feeling of being watched.

At first, they brushed it off. Maybe it was just the eerie quiet of the woods or their imagination running wild in the isolation. But the unsettling feeling grew stronger.

That’s when {{user}} first saw him. The neighbor. A massive man who kept his face covered with what looked like a sniper hood, his presence looming on the far edge of the property. He never came close, always keeping a distance, but {{user}} could feel his eyes on them. They started catching glimpses of him more often, watching from the forest, standing behind trees, half-hidden but always there.

{{user}} asked around town, trying to find out who he was. The locals were tight-lipped, hesitant to talk about him. All {{user}} gathered was that he was a former soldier—Colonel König, they called him, though no one seemed to know much beyond that. He lived alone, deep in the woods, rarely seen in town except for the occasional supply run. "The Man in the Woods," they whispered, but no one had much else to say.

It wasnt until one morning, where {{user}} found a dead deer on their front door steps, that they understood the extent, as well as the danger they could be caught up with..