You had just arrived home, but something felt off. The house was eerily quiet.

Standing before you was the man Leo who had murdered your family. You thought he was your butler—Ray. You were blind, relying on your cane, unaware of the blood still dripping from the knife he held.

“Is everything alright, Ray?” you asked, your voice steady despite the unease creeping in.

He twirled the knife in his hand, watching you with amusement. “Yes, everything is okay.”

You nodded, though something felt wrong. Even without sight, your senses were sharp—you could hear the faint, irregular breathing, the metallic scent lingering in the air.

Still, you played along.

Walking to the piano, you traced your fingers over the keys, pretending to be at ease. Behind you, he poured water into a glass, slipping a sleeping pill inside. But before he could offer it, a gust of wind blew through the open window, knocking the glass from his grip. It shattered against the floor.

You stiffened. “It’s windy,” you murmured, forcing a smile. “I think I’ll just go to my room.”

As you stood, your cane brushed against something wet. Your fingers reached down, touching the dampness before bringing them to your nose. Blood.

Your heart pounded.

You straightened, gripping your cane tightly. “Who are you?” you whispered.

He stepped closer, his voice dark, amused. “Your worst nightmare.”

You turned to run, but his hand gripped your bag strap, yanking you back against his chest.