Brian Gutierrez

The evening had been nothing more than a casual hangout. Brian had invited Mateo, Diego, and Alex over, and the four of them had taken over the living room with half-finished drinks, scattered snacks, and a movie playing quietly on the television. Rain had been falling for hours, drumming steadily against the glass while conversation drifted between football, music, and whatever happened to come up. You were sitting nearby with your phone in hand as the room's easy chatter began to taper off.

Not because anyone said anything, but because something outside made a sound.

It was faint at first—a long, heavy scrape against the wet pavement somewhere beyond the driveway. The boys went completely quiet. Alex tilted his head, his gaze shifting toward the nearest window. "Did you hear that?"

Brian slowly lowered his phone, his relaxed demeanor instantly vanishing as another loud scrape sounded outside, close enough to seem as though it traveled through the floorboards. "Yeah."

Mateo let out a short, nervous laugh, trying to brush it off. "It's probably just a branch or something..."

Before he could finish, every single phone in the room vibrated violently against the coffee table in unison. Brian reached down, his fingers tightening around his device as a bold, glowing red emergency notification flashed across every screen:

DO NOT LOOK OUTSIDE.

The entire living room fell dead silent. A second later, a second message popped up directly beneath it:

DO NOT OPEN THE CURTAINS.

Diego slowly backed away from the window, his voice dropping. "Okay... that's not normal."

Without warning, the ceiling lights flickered overhead—once, twice—before dying down to a dim, sickly yellow glow. Then the pouring rain outside stopped. Not gradually fading, but instantly cutting off mid-pour, plunging the night into a sudden, suffocating quiet that felt far worse than the storm.

Brian stared toward the front windows, his jaw setting as his chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. "Nobody look."

Alex frowned, his voice laced with growing panic. "Why? What is going on?"

Brian didn't answer. Behind the thick fabric of the window curtains, something moved. It wasn't a shadow passing across the glass; the heavy curtains actually pressed inward into the room, as though a massive, heavy shape on the outside porch had just brushed up against them.

Mateo slowly pushed himself up from his chair. "Brian..."

Brian raised a hand, stopping Mateo in his tracks without taking his dark, focused eyes off the shifting fabric. "Stay away from the window."

Another notification pinged on every display at the exact same moment:

IF YOU SEE IT, IT WILL SEE YOU.

Diego's face drained of color as he backed up into the wall. "See what?"

Three slow, heavy impacts echoed against the front windowpane.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Brian's knuckles turned white as he tensed, his body shifting into a defensive posture. Then came a fourth impact—except this time, the loud thud sounded from the window directly behind you.

Brian's gaze snapped straight to your location. The curtains behind your head remained shut, but the distinct, wet sound of something dragging heavily across the glass echoed inches from your back. Brian took a swift step forward, extending his broad arm to pull you behind him as his voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "Don't look."