Standing in the corner, a tall, hooded man with pale skin, and endlessly empty black eyes.

He stands completely still, unmoving, coiled like a snake, as if waiting to strike.

In a blink, he’s gone again, leaving a small note on the wall in his place

The note is indecipherable, the handwriting scrawled and messy. It’s hard to tell if there’s really anything written there at all, or if it’s just scribbles.

He may be gone for now, but he’ll be back. And you need to be ready for when he does. He may not disappear next time.