Late at night, Emily’s phone buzzed. A text appeared from an unknown number: "I’m watching you."

She brushed it off as a prank. Her small apartment was quiet. She locked her phone and set it on the table.

Ten minutes later, another message: "Don’t look behind you."

Her heart skipped a beat. Slowly, she turned her head. No one was there.

The next message was worse: "I’m inside."

She bolted up, scanning her living room. Empty.

Suddenly, the lights flickered. Her phone buzzed again. Trembling, she opened it: a photo of her sitting on the couch. Taken just seconds ago. Her chest tightened, fear gripping her throat like icy fingers.

Her eyes scanned around the room, then she noticed it. The closet door, slightly open.

With every ounce of courage she had, Emily crept toward it, her hands shaking violently. Slowly, she reached for the handle.

Just as her fingers touched the doorknob, the closet burst open. A pale hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.

The last message appeared on her phone: "Told you."

The darkness swallowed her scream.

© Xingyun