The Stranger at the Window

David Turner lived in a quiet apartment on the top floor of an old building. The street below was always bustling with traffic, but his apartment was a peaceful retreat away from the noise. He’d lived there for years, enjoying the solitude it provided. That is, until the figure appeared.

It started one night while David was relaxing on the couch, watching a movie. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something—a figure standing outside his window. It was a shadowy silhouette, unmoving, just beyond the glass.

At first, he thought it was just a neighbor or someone passing by. But when he looked more closely, he realized something was wrong. The figure wasn’t moving, wasn’t breathing. It was almost as if it was frozen in place.

David’s heart raced as he stood up and approached the window. He pulled back the blinds, but when he looked outside, there was nothing there. The street was empty.

The feeling of unease lingered, but David chalked it up to his imagination. He went to bed that night, trying to dismiss the strange occurrence as nothing more than an overactive mind.

But the next night, the figure was back.

It was standing in the same spot, just beyond the window, as still as before. This time, David snapped a photo with his phone. But when he checked the image, there was nothing there—just a dark, empty street.

The figure continued to appear each night, always in the same place, always motionless. David couldn’t explain it. Was it some kind of prank? He tried everything—checking the building’s security cameras, installing new locks, and even asking the neighbors—but no one had seen anything.

As the days went on, the figure’s presence became more unsettling. David started to feel paranoid. He couldn’t escape the feeling that someone was watching him, even when he wasn’t near the window. He stopped leaving the apartment after dark, afraid of what might be lurking outside.

One night, he woke to the sound of tapping at his window. Slowly, he approached the glass. The figure was closer than ever before, its face now visible—pale, hollow, with dark, empty eyes. A grin spread across its face.

David screamed. He backed away from the window, his heart hammering in his chest. But the figure didn’t disappear. Instead, it moved closer. He could hear its breath, low and raspy, as it pressed against the glass.

That’s when David realized—it wasn’t outside. It was inside his apartment, standing just behind him.

The last thing David heard was a whisper, cold and hollow, right in his ear. “You can’t escape.”