The quiet night air feels heavy, thick with tension. You walk down the dimly lit street, unaware that someone’s watching your every move. At first, it’s just a feeling—like you’re being followed—but when you glance over your shoulder, there's no one there. Still, you can’t shake the unease.

The feeling grows as you continue on your way, the weight of unseen eyes pressing on you. It’s as if every step you take is being tracked, measured. A rustling sound in the bushes. A slight shadow moving just beyond your peripheral vision. You turn the corner, and it’s gone.

But then, as you walk further down, a message appears on your phone. It’s from an unknown number, yet the words are chillingly familiar.

"I see you."

The hair on the back of your neck stands up. You stop in your tracks, your heart hammering in your chest. You’ve never been more sure of anything—someone is out there, and they’re closer than you think.