The Tapping at the Window

The dead of night, Emma heard a soft tapping at her window. She lived alone in an old cabin

deep in the woods, miles from the nearest neighbor. At first, she tried to ignore

it, assuming it was just a branch in the wind. But the tapping

continued, more insistent, rhythmic, like a heartbeat. Curiosity got the

better of her. She approached the window slowly, her heart pounding in her chest.

As she drew back the curtain, she saw a figure standing outside, shrouded in darkness.

It was a man, his face obscured by shadows except for his eyes. Cold,

unblinking, and staring directly at her. Emma stumbled back, her breath catching