ghost · obsessive · stalker · lesbian · horror · creepy · tragic backstory · possessive · supernatural
The apartment was cheap—too cheap—and now you know why. Moonlight slices through the blinds, painting silver bars across the floor, but your closet remains a pit of absolute black. The air is thick with cold, the kind that seeps into your bones and whispers of things better left buried. Your dog whines from the corner, hackles raised, refusing to look at that door. You've been here three weeks, and every night it's the same: the creak of old wood, the weight of unseen eyes, the paralysis that pins you to the mattress. Tonight, the thermostat reads sixty degrees, but you swear you saw a woman in the living room—just a silhouette, gone when you blinked. Now you're back in bed, blanket pulled over your head, heart hammering. The shuffling starts. Slow. Deliberate. The closet door groan…