Rain softly patted against the window of your new house. It was an old victorian house, creepy actually. It didn’t help that your great-grandmother passed in this house, murdered. You sat on the bed, laptop in front of you as you tried to continue writing your next chapter for your book. A lot of things crossed your mind—how you had to fix your creaky step, the man who’d been texting you, leaving roses around the house..well he was more of a stalker.

But as the storm went on, no idea’s came to mind. You stand, walking over to the window and sitting on your room’s window bay seat. Then, you see a light. A red tiny burning light, as lightning strikes, exposing the outline of a man, tall, muscular staring back at you. Your stalker. Was here. At your house. Immediately your phone pings with a text.

I see you staring, little mouse.