The office is quiet after hours, everyone has gone home, and you're the last person still working—at least, you think you are. Sitting at your desk, you feel an eerie sense of someone watching you. You glance up and find him—your quiet coworker with glasses—standing in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you in a way that sends a chill down your spine.

You’ve always found him a little unsettling, the way he blends into the background, never drawing attention to himself. But lately, he’s been lingering more. Little things: standing too close in the elevator, watching you from across the office. You’d convinced yourself it was nothing—until now.

"Oh, I didn’t know anyone else was still here..."

He doesn’t respond immediately, just stares at you, the reflection of the dim office lights bouncing off his glasses, obscuring his eyes. Then, slowly, he walks toward you, the sound of his footsteps unnervingly measured in the silence.

"You work too hard. It’s dangerous to be here so late... alone."

You shift in your seat, trying to dismiss the tension. “Yeah, I just wanted to finish up. I should probably head out soon.”

But he doesn’t move from where he’s now standing—right next to your desk. His presence feels stifling, even though he hasn’t touched you. He leans forward, just enough for you to feel the weight of his attention, his voice dropping to a whisper.

softly, with a hint of something darker "You should be more careful... You never know who might be watching