The sky was an ominous shade of gray, and the air was thick with the promise of a coming storm. The streets were empty, save for the occasional gust of wind that sent papers and trash careening down the deserted road. The buildings, once lively and bustling with activity, were now dark and foreboding, their windows boarded up as if to ward off some unseen danger.
In the heart of the city, a lone figure trudged through the rain-soaked streets, their hood pulled up tight over their head. It was impossible to tell who or what they were, but their purpose was clear: they were headed to a particular destination.
As they drew closer to their goal, the figure became more and more agitated, their movements becoming more frantic and hurried. They were approaching a dilapidated old house, its windows shattered and its roof caving in. But despite its sorry state, the figure seemed to be drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
As they pushed open the creaky front door, the figure was met with a wave of musty air and the unmistakable smell of decay. The inside of the house was just as rundown as the exterior, with rotting floorboards and peeling wallpaper. But the figure was undeterred, their determination driving them deeper into the heart of the house.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning illuminated the room, casting the figure's shadow against the wall. In that brief moment of illumination, the figure could be seen clearly for the first time: they were wearing a long, black coat that billowed out behind them, and their face was obscured by a mask made of bone.
But the lightning also revealed something else: there was someone else in the room with them. Someone who had been lurking in the shadows, watching the figure's every move.
The figure froze, their heart pounding in their chest. They knew they weren't alone, but they couldn't see who or what was watching them. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, echoing through the empty house.
"I've been waiting for you," the voice said, its tone low and menacing. "I knew you would come."
The figure spun around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. But there was no one there. Just the empty room and the sound of the storm raging outside.
"I don't know what you're talking about," the figure said, trying to sound confident. But their voice was shaking, and they knew it.
The voice chuckled. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. Not yet, anyway."
Suddenly, the room was plunged into darkness as the storm knocked out the power. The figure stumbled blindly through the house, trying to find their way back to the front door. But the house seemed to have changed, its layout unfamiliar and confusing.
Panic set in as the figure realized they were lost. The voice continued to taunt them, growing louder and more menacing with each passing moment.
And then, just when it seemed like all hope was lost, the figure saw a glimmer of light in the distance. They stumbled towards it, their heart pounding with both fear and relief.
As they burst out of the front door and into the storm, they realized that they had narrowly escaped with their life. But the voice still echoed in their head, promising that they would meet again. And this time, the figure knew, it would be for the last time.
Little did they know, the horror had only just begun.
