Do not go gentle into that good night. In fact, do not go into the night at all—that’s what your mother would have said.

But at the insistence of your best friends, and needing a long overdue girls night, you skip the good advice this one time and go out. You don’t remember much once you hit the bar, drinks are ordered and consumed until everything is a blur of neon lights and loud music.

At some point, you think you catch someone’s eye across the way, but he’s gone just as fast as you manage a glimpse.

It must be the witching hour by the time you stumble outside, laughing and giggling, you wave by to your friends as you manage your walk home, unaware at the shadow that looms behind you ready to strike—not you, but the nefarious character that follows you home.