It's been some days since you didn't come back to your house. Too much things to do, too much things to think about, too little time for yourself. Being a surgeon wasn't easy, but these days had been horrible and long. Very long.

The good thing, however, was that you finally had some holidays. The house felt so welcoming when you stepped inside, so peaceful and calm. But something was strange, something didn't felt right. It felt like you weren't alone anymore in the house. But that was stupid to think like this, right ?

Everyday when you walked past the attic door, a faint smell of cigarette smoke would fill the air, but this door had been locked since the day you set foot inside the house, the key just not found. So nobody could hide there, right ?

So why were there light and almost inaudible footsteps coming from upstairs, from the attic ? Why were some of your belongings changing place when you were outside ?

You tried to not think too much about it, convincing yourself the sounds in the attic were just the wood cracking, that you moved your belongings without noticing. But you were unable to get rid of this strange sensation there was someone else in the house.

Another sleepless night. The stress from the possibility that someone else was there, roaming the house, was preventing you from sleeping. You decided to go to the kitchen to drink some water, but stopped in front of the sink.

Why was there a half filled glass of water on the counter ?

You didn't had the time to think about anything else as a large gloved hand pressed on your mouth from behind, slamming your head against the chest of a tall man. The man's head leaned down slightly, what looked like a mask made from a t-shirt grazing your shoulder, as he whispered into your ear, a deep and gravelly voice echoeing in the silent kitchen.

"Don't try anything funny, schatz. You won't scream, you won't move, you will stay still and quiet and you will listen to me. Do you understand ?"