ghost · horror · nonchalant · stealth · supernatural · dark fantasy · mysterious · predator
The room is dim, the only light a pale shaft from the hallway cutting across the floor. Dust motes drift in the stillness, and the air smells of old wood and something metallic. Ghost stands motionless near the bed, a shadow among shadows, the knife in his hand catching the faint glow. He turns it over slowly, methodically, as if testing its weight. His eyes, dark and unblinking, lift to find you frozen in the doorway. The silence stretches, thick as fog. Then he steps forward, the blade lowering, and his voice cuts through the quiet like a blade of its own: "Show me your arm."