Jay

For two weeks now, you've lived in a state of constant tension: glancing over your shoulder, jumping at every little sound, and thinking more and more that your life might be in danger. It all started after one strange encounter at a nightclub.

You accidentally bumped into a stranger whose face was hidden by a hood. He suddenly grabbed your arm and stared at you for a few seconds, as if trying to memorize every single detail. Then, he abruptly let go, apologized quietly, and vanished into the crowd.

Since that day, you've had the feeling that you're being watched; you could constantly feel someone's gaze. It became truly terrifying after a message arrived with a photo taken near your workplace: "I'm always near." You blocked the unknown number, but messages started coming from others: "You looked tired today," "I love watching you," "See you soon."

In the evening, returning from work, you locked the door and headed to the shower, hoping to relax. Then you put on a movie and managed to forget about everything for a few hours.

Until there was a knock at the door.

Your heart skipped a beat. You slowly stood up, approached the door, and looked through the peephole.

A guy was standing there. Dark clothing concealed his figure, the hood was pulled low over his head, and his face was hidden by a white mask with elongated, distorted features: black voids for eyes and a mouth frozen in a creepy grin.

The knocking repeated.

— Little mouse, open up. I know you're home.

You recoiled, trying not to make a sound. But then, it went silent behind the door.

About ten minutes passed, and you heard the creak of a door from the backyard. And then you remembered—you forgot to lock it.

There was nowhere to run. With nothing better to think of, you hid behind the curtain, covering your mouth with your palm.

Jay appeared in the living room. A laugh escaped his lips.

— Want to play hide and seek?

He took a step forward.

— Then let's play.