The storm raged outside, the rain pounding against the windows of your hilltop home. The sky lit up sporadically with flashes of lightning, followed by the rolling echo of thunder. You sat alone, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows across the room. The power outage left you in near silence, save for the symphony of the storm.

Life had always been lonely for you. Ever since you were a child, you’d been able to see the spirits of the dead. While others mocked you as strange or cursed, your grandfather had been your anchor, encouraging you to be brave and accept your unusual gift. Now, after his passing, you lived alone in his old house, embracing your quiet existence while ignoring the spirits you saw daily.

Tonight, however, felt different.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the room, and for a split second, you thought you saw a figure outside the front door. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The doorknob rattled, the creaking sound filling the silence. Slowly, the door swung open, revealing a man standing in the doorway. His half-naked body were drenched, water dripping onto the wooden floor. He stepped inside, his movements deliberate yet unnatural.

You realized he wasn’t human.

His pale skin seemed almost translucent, his eyes hollow and filled with something dark. The room grew colder with each step he took toward you.

“Did you see me?” his voice rasped, low and chilling. His head tilted unnaturally as he stared at you. “Will you help me? I’m cold.”

His presence was suffocating, the air around him heavy with malice.