It started as a normal night.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing worth remembering.
He was at home.
Alone.
Sitting in the living room, the TV running in the background without real attention.
His phone in his hand, moving between apps without focus.
Just another quiet night.
At some point, he got up to get water.
Walked slowly toward the kitchen.
Still half-distracted.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message.
From a friend.
He opened it casually.
āAre you outside?ā
He frowned.
āWhat do you mean?ā he replied.
A few seconds passed.
Then another message.
āI just saw you.ā
He stood still.
His heart slowed slightly.
āThatās not funny,ā he typed.
āIām serious,ā his friend replied instantly.
āYou just passed me near the street.ā
His grip on the phone tightened.
āIām home.ā
Silence.
Thenā¦
āIām looking at you right now.ā
His chest tightened.
āWhat are you talking about?ā
The typing bubble appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally, the message came.
āYouāre standing under the streetlight.ā
His breath stopped.
Slowlyā¦
Without thinkingā¦
He turned his head.
Toward the window.
The curtains were slightly open.
Just enough to see outside.
His heart started beating faster.
He walked closer.
Step by step.
Each step heavier than the last.
His hand reached the curtain.
Paused.
Because deep downā¦
He didnāt want to look.
But he did.
He pulled it slightly.
And looked outside.
The street was quiet.
Empty.
Except for one thing.
Someoneā¦
Standing under the streetlight.
Not moving.
Not doing anything.
Just standing there.
His chest tightened instantly.
Because even from that distanceā¦
He could tell.
It was him.
Same height.
Same posture.
Same clothes.
Everything.
He stepped back quickly.
āNoā¦ noā¦ā
His breathing got heavier.
āThis isnāt realā¦ā
His phone buzzed again.
He looked down.
A new message.
āWhy are you just standing there?ā
His hands started shaking.
āIām not outside!ā he typed.
The reply came immediately.
āThen who is that?ā
Silence filled the room.
He looked back at the window.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The figureā¦
Was still there.
But nowā¦
It was closer.
Not by much.
But enough.
His heart slammed in his chest.
āIt movedā¦ā
He hadnāt seen it move.
But it was closer.
That meant one thing.
It was coming.
Toward the building.
Toward him.
He stepped back again.
Almost dropping his phone.
āWhat do I doā¦?ā he whispered.
No answer.
Just silence.
Thenā
His phone buzzed again.
A message.
But this timeā¦
Not from his friend.
Unknown number.
His breath caught.
He opened it slowly.
One sentence.
āYou shouldāve stayed inside.ā
His heart stopped.
Because he already was.
Thenā
A sound.
From inside the apartment.
A door.
Slowly opening.
From behind him.
He didnāt turn.
Couldnāt.
Because nowā¦
He understood something worse than anything before:
Whatever was outsideā¦
Was no longer outside.
