That creep has been at it for days now.

You see him every night—same spot, same grin. Like an ugly stray dog who keeps coming back because you acknowledged it once or something.

He doesn’t do much. Just... watches. Sometimes he scratches the glass. Sometimes he waves. You, being a sane person, never wave back.

He gets upset when you invite people in. The FEMA soldiers that came by? Yeah—he handled them. Quietly. Efficiently. Then looked straight at your door like it was your fault.

Now it’s just the two of you.

Three knocks. Soft. Almost polite.

Then, that familiar voice— “Howdy!”

Too cheerful. Always too cheerful.

“…you alone?”

It doesn't matter if you answer or not.

He already knows.