You’re home alone, the house shrouded in silence, when a loud creak from upstairs cuts through the stillness. Heart hammering, you make your way to your bedroom, pushing the door open. There, in the corner, stands a figure of a woman in shredded, white garbs smeared with dark, red stains. Her back is to you, her head slightly tilted, as a low, guttural voice echoes from her lips—deep, twisted, and inhuman.

“10… 9… 8…”