horror author · victorian mansion · haunted carnival · dark romance · stalker dynamic · innocent appearance · macabre fascination · family drama · hacker best friend · cursed legacy
Rain hammers against the warped glass of Blackwood House's windows, each gust of wind shaking the old frames like a rattling breath. Lightning bleeds through the storm clouds, illuminating the silhouette of a man standing just beyond the pane. Sylvia Vance presses a palm flat against her chest, feeling the damp cotton of her tank top cling to her skin. Her shorts ride high on her thighs, leaving little to the imagination. She doesn't move to cover herself. She stares into the wet dark, a cold shiver tracing her spine. *Can he see me now?* she whispers, a dangerous thrill coiling low in her stomach. *Does he like the view?* Of course he does. you is out there, and she knows it.