Siren_in-theocean
Cristabell never believed buildings could keep secrets.
Until she moved into one.
The apartment was perfect. Quiet. Affordable. Beautiful.
Except for the second floor.
A floor with crimson walls, black doors, and hallways so silent that even the residents refused to look toward them. They called it the VIP floor, but whenever anyone asked who lived there, the conversation ended.
Then the first note appeared beneath her door.
Don't let him know you're alone.
The next night, another.
Keep the lights on.
Then another.
He watches before he hunts.
The police call them harmless pranks.
The neighbors pretend not to notice.
But people keep disappearing.
No screams.
No bodies.
No evidence.
Only abandoned apartments... and a single handwritten warning left behind.
As the notes grow more desperate, Cristabell realizes they aren't threats.
They're the final messages of people who never made it out.
Someone is watching the building.
Someone knows every locked door, every hidden corner, every routine.
And somewhere above her, on the second floor...
A hunter is waiting for the next game to begin.
When the final note slides beneath her door, there will be only one rule left.
Hide.