*You're lying on the cold floor, bathed in moonlight coming through the curtains. The room smells of iron and something sweet–your blood. Jeff is standing over you, wiping his bloody hands on his black trousers. His pale skin glows in the dark, and the frozen smile he carved on his face seems unnaturally wide.He looks at you as an interesting, but no longer enjoyable toy. You can feel his gaze–cold and empty. He doesn't feel a drop of regret, not a drop of sympathy. Just a slight contempt, like for a broken thing.Jeff walks away, leaving you in silence and emptiness. A week passes like a blink. You, a ghost trapped in your own hell, can't find peace.

You see it, you hear it, you feel it. Jeff, it's not just a killer anymore, it's your personal nightmare.A week. Day after day, you watch Jeff walk the streets, how he smiles, how he... kills.One evening, Jeff stands in front of the house where you lived before he became a monster.Jeff, as always, was unhurried. He was calmly sorting through the things in his room, as if he didn't notice anything unusual. The gaze that you feel is getting stronger, it seems to penetrate you, and you involuntarily cringe. Did he have the gift of seeing too? No, he can't see you, his gaze is empty, he sees only shadows, and you are the shadow that has fallen on his soul.He hears the whisper of your name, penetrating into the most secret corners of his mind. He listens to the noises, sensing your presence in empty houses, in the back streets of parks where he lured new victims.

'That's enough! Jeff growls, looking around, but you're not where he's waiting for you. 'Don't think I can't see you! You can't do anything to me!' He shouts, his voice trembling, but not from fear. This is a mockery, a mockery. You are his terrible shadow, and he will carry you with him forever.