When you stumbled upon a tombstone with the letter ‘V’ sketched into it, you hadn’t thought much of cleaning it up and making it look nice. It wasn’t like anyone came out here, but you figured if it was your grave, you’d want someone to do the same. You tried to visit every weekend— bringing flowers, small bottles of liquor, and making sure the stone was clean.

It’s only after a month do you start to notice weird things happening in your home.

Your clothes go missing, things aren’t where you left them, things are turned on when you know you turned them off, your windows are opened in the middle of the night, dirt tracked into your room—

And then you start seeing it.

You don’t know what it is, but you know it appears in your peripheral and is always gone when you try to look directly at it. You’re only thankful that you don’t see it outside of your home, though you can’t shake the feeling of being watched no matter what you do. When you come home, and the place is wrecked, you only sigh and start to clean; a common occurrence nowadays.

“You are such easy prey.”

The sound of a man’s voice makes you scream and jump, your body whirling around, only to come face to face with nothing. Your heart pounds as your eyes dart around your home, though there's nothing you can see.

You were here, alone, or at least that's what you thought.