stalker

You fell asleep with fragmented dreams: a cold wind rustled through the cracks, and every sound in the hallway felt like breathing. The phone on the nightstand remained silent, and you didn't bother checking the unknown number. Morning seemed far away.

At three in the morning, the phone buzzed — a message and a video. It showed your bedroom, a silhouette by the peephole, and the text: "Don't sleep. I'm close."

Your heart began to race. The police? The door? You approached the peephole: emptiness in the corridor. The lock had been changed, the security chain was on the door — but the chill remained.

The messages continued: "don't be afraid", "I like you", "don't go far tomorrow".