THE MAN IN THE WINDOW
1507 Words
Rain hammered the sidewalks with a violence that felt personal, each drop striking Emberly like the city itself was trying to shove her back into the shadows she’d tried so hard to escape. She stood there frozen, the glow of her phone burning white in her trembling hand.
I’m outside your apartment. Don’t keep me waiting.
Her breath came out sharp and uneven.
This wasn’t a prank.
This wasn’t imagination.
This wasn’t a hallucination wrapped in anxiety.
It was real.
Too real.
Her fingers felt numb as she typed:
Emberly:
Who are you?
The reply came instantly.
You already know, Emberly.
Her name.
Her full name.
Only someone who truly knew her—her past, her present, her secrets—would send something like this.
Shaking, she lifted her head and scanned the street.
People blurred past her like ghosts, umbrellas bobbing against the storm. Their voices mixed with the roar of bus engines and the sirens in the distance. But none of them looked at her.
No one seemed to see her unraveling.
No one seemed to see the danger.
She swallowed hard.
Going home was the last thing she wanted to do.
But if someone was there—if someone was waiting—she needed to know.
She forced her feet to move.
---
The Walk Back
The walk to her building had never felt longer. Every alley she passed seemed darker, every doorway a possible hiding place. The storm soaked her through within minutes, her clothes clinging to her skin.
Her phone buzzed again.
You’re slow. I thought you wanted answers.
She nearly dropped the device.
Her throat tightened, and she pressed her palm to her forehead, trying to breathe. Rain dripped into her eyes, blurring her vision. She blinked hard, moving faster, almost running.
Cars splashed through puddles as she passed the intersection. She didn’t notice the figure across the street until she was already halfway down the block.
He wasn’t moving.
He wasn’t talking.
He was just standing under the flickering streetlight, hood up, face hidden.
Watching her.
Emberly’s heart seized.
Is that him?
Is he following me?
She backed away, pulse shattering inside her chest, and hurried the last stretch to her building.
When she finally reached the entrance, she turned to look again
—but he was gone.
Only the rain remained.
---
The Apartment Door
Emberly fumbled with her keys, nearly dropping them as she pushed the door open.
The hallway inside was dim. The overhead light flickered twice before buzzing softly back to life. Water pooled at her feet as she stepped in, leaving wet footprints on the carpet.
Her apartment door stood at the end of the hall.
Her phone buzzed.
I hear you coming up the stairs. You’re shaking.
Her lungs stopped working.
She wasn’t even moving.
She froze on the first floor landing, staring at the message, her pulse pounding so loud she thought the whole building might hear it.
She typed with trembling hands:
Emberly:
Where are you?
How do you know what I’m doing?
She waited.
One second.
Three seconds.
Ten.
No answer.
She forced herself up the stairs, gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles ached. With every step, she felt eyes crawling up her spine. She kept glancing behind her, expecting a shadow to move.
The second-floor landing creaked loudly beneath her feet.
Her phone buzzed again.
Right above you.
Emberly choked on her breath and stumbled backward, her hand flying to her mouth.
Right above her.
Her apartment.
304.
She forced her legs up the last flight of stairs, each step louder than the last. Her arms felt heavy, her throat dry.
When she reached the third floor, her breath hitched.
Her apartment door—
—was wide open.
Not cracked.
Not ajar.
Wide open, like someone had been waiting for her to step inside.
The hallway lights flickered violently.
“Hello?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
No answer.
Silence pressed against her ears like a drowning sensation.
She lifted her phone with shaking hands, using its screen as a dim flashlight.
“Anyone here?” she whispered again.
Still nothing.
Her heart hammered as she stepped over the threshold.
---
Inside the Apartment
Water dripped from her hair and shoes onto the floor. The apartment smelled wrong. Damp. Metallic. Like something rotten had been in the walls.
The living room was untouched.
The kitchen looked normal.
Her bedroom door was half closed.
The tapping started again.
Tap… tap… tap…
Her chest constricted.
It was coming from the bedroom.
“Please…” she whispered to herself. “Don’t let this be real.”
Her hand trembled as she pushed the door open.
The bedroom was dark except for the faint glow from the streetlight outside. Shadows stretched across the floorboards, long and twisted.
Something had been moved.
Her dresser drawer was open.
Her closet door was half ajar.
And on her bed—
Her phone buzzed again, and she nearly screamed.
Do you remember me yet?
“No,” she whispered. “No, I don’t. I don’t—”
Look in the mirror.
Her throat closed.
Slowly, as if obeying something bigger than her own fear, she turned.
The mirror above her dresser was fogged over—as if someone had breathed on it. Her skin prickled, chills rushing across her arms.
She stepped closer, wiping the fog with her sleeve.
At first she saw only herself—wet hair clinging to her face, eyes swollen with panic.
Then behind her—
—a dark shape.
Tall.
Still.
Standing in the corner.
Emberly spun around, heart in her throat.
The corner was empty.
Her chest heaved.
“No,” she whispered. “This isn’t real… it’s not real…”
But she didn’t believe that—not anymore.
Her phone buzzed again.
Look again.
Her whole body trembled as she turned back to the mirror.
This time the fog returned instantly—like a breath exhaled onto the glass.
Slowly, a sentence began forming in the condensation, each letter appearing one by one as though written by an invisible finger
I see you.
Emberly stumbled backward, hitting the bed frame. Her breath tore from her lungs, uneven and hot.
“STOP!” she screamed into the empty room.
The lights flickered.
The tapping grew louder.
Tap. Tap. TAP.
Then everything went silent.
She stood there shaking, her breath shallow and ragged.
Her phone buzzed again.
He’s back.
A chill bolted down her spine.
He?
Her fingers shook as she typed:
Who is he?
WHAT do you want from me?
The reply didn’t come immediately.
This time, the pause made it worse.
Finally, her screen lit up again.
You forgot him. But he didn’t forget you.
Her hands went cold.
Her pulse slowed.
The words looked wrong.
Familiar.
Dangerous.
Check under the bed.
Her lungs locked.
She shook her head violently. “No… no… I’m not doing that.”
But the tapping returned.
This time, not from the walls.
From beneath the bed.
Tap… tap… tap.
Her knees nearly buckled.
She crouched down, slowly, heart pounding in her ears.
Rain thundered against the windows.
The tapping continued.
She lifted the blanket edge with trembling fingers.
Darkness.
Only darkness.
She exhaled shakily—
Then her phone buzzed so loudly she jumped.
Too slow.
And then the closet door behind her—
—SLAMMED shut.
Emberly screamed.
---
The Collapse
She crawled backward until her spine hit the wall, her breath slicing through her chest. Her heart raced so violently she felt her vision blur at the edges.
“Somebody…” she whispered. “Please… somebody help me—”
Her phone buzzed again.
I told you. I’m already here.
She dropped the device.
Tears streamed down her face.
Her vision tilted, and she felt her body sliding sideways. The room spun violently, her breath sharp and shallow.
“No… not now…” she whispered.
Her knees gave out.
The last thing she saw before everything went dark was the closet door creaking open again—
—and the faint outline of a figure stepping out.
---
The Awakening
She didn’t know how much time passed.
Minutes?
Hours?
Long enough for the rain to stop and the city noise to fade into its late-night lull.
She woke on the bedroom floor, heart pounding, skin cold.
Her phone lay beside her.
One new message waited on the screen.
Next time, don’t ignore me.
She whimpered softly, pulling her knees to her chest.
This wasn’t hallucination.
This wasn’t imagination.
Someone was inside her apartment.
Someone who knew her.
Someone who knew things about her she didn’t even remember.
Someone watching.
Someone waiting.
The last message buzzed through.
And Emberly…
She stared at the screen, breath frozen.
You’re not alone tonight. Look at the window.
Her head snapped up.
Slowly—terrified—she turned toward the rain-streaked glass.
A silhouette stood outside the window.
Tall.
Still.
Watching her.
Not a dream.
Not a trick.
Not her mind.
REAL.
Emberly’s scream ripped through the night.
- Writer
