The storm outside rattled the windows, and the wind carried an eerie whistle through the trees surrounding Maya’s house. You had spent the evening with her, trying to help her feel safer after the last terrifying encounter with the masked strangers.

“We can’t just sit here,” Maya whispered, pacing. “If they come back, I’m not going to… I can’t let it happen again.”

You nodded, trying to stay calm. “Then we’ll do everything we can. Let’s make sure we’re ready.”

Together, you spent hours rigging the house. Strings tied to bells, tripwires hidden under rugs, and a few improvised noise traps—you and Maya turned her living room into a defensive maze. Every lamp, chair, and furniture piece was positioned with care.

“This should give us at least a few seconds if they show up,” you said, wiping sweat from your forehead. “And seconds… can make all the difference.”

Maya gave you a tight smile. “You’re crazy… but I like it.”

Hours passed, the storm raging louder, when suddenly—a faint scrape at the front door. Your heart jumped.

“They’re here,” Maya whispered. Her hand found yours, gripping tightly.