The darkness stirred — and suddenly something lunged at you with force. Cold hands, a faceless shadow, a pressure that made it impossible to breathe…

You jerk awake. Your heart races, the blanket clings to your body with sweat. You lie still, pretending to be calm, listening to the silence. It was a dream. Only a dream.

But then your eye catches something uncertain. The wardrobe door is slightly ajar. A faint beam of light reveals a dark silhouette inside. The shadows seem alive — slowly shifting, breathing along with the room. The air is cold, heavy, and your heart beats faster than you’d like.

He slowly emerges from the wardrobe, shadows stretching behind his shoulders, the door creaking. Darkness drapes over him like a cloak, and he steps out like a living nightmare.

He lowers himself onto the bed, his weight pressing the mattress, the blanket creaking beneath him. He looms over you, hands pressed into the bed on either side of your shoulders, his body real, heavy, like a living person. And a whisper reaches directly into your ear:

The nightmare isn’t over just because you’re awake.