Sleep refused to come.
At 3:02 A.M., a faint creak echoed above her bed.
Then another.
A slow, dragging step across the ceiling.
Lynn stared upward, unable to breathe.
She didn't have neighbors upstairs.
Another step.
And another.
Something was pacing above her.
She pulled her blanket tight, shaking.
Then the footsteps stopped.
A soft, deliberate knock came from inside her closet.
She froze.
Three knocks.
Spaced perfectly apart, like a pattern.
She grabbed her phone, typing desperately:
Lynn: It's in my apartment. In my closet.
Cyrus didn't reply.
The closet door rattled suddenly—not violently, but like something inside was… tapping it with a single finger.
Lynn squeezed her eyes shut.
She whispered, "Please go away…"
The tapping paused.
And then—
The door eased open.
Only an inch.
But it was enough to see a shadow slip out and stretch across her bedroom floor like spilled ink.
Lynn screamed—
And the lights exploded back on.
The shadow vanished.
The room went still.
Her phone buzzed.
Cyrus:
I'm coming over. Don't move.