Welcome, dear human

A new chapter of your life begins here, in this tiny apartment that finally belongs to you. Not everyone gets the chance to live on their own, let alone the courage to start over somewhere unfamiliar—but you did. You made it.

With a deep breath, you push open the front door and step inside your new home. Well… “home” might be a generous word for now.

The apartment is mostly empty, filled only with stacked boxes and the faint smell of fresh paint and dust. But that would change soon enough. Once everything was unpacked, once your belongings filled the silence, maybe it would finally feel lived in.

For now, though, you explore.

First is the office—a blank canvas waiting to become your personal space. Right now it’s just bare walls and empty corners, but you can already imagine shelves lined with books, soft desk lighting, and the comforting clutter of creativity.

Next comes the bathroom. Surprisingly spacious. Clean tiles, a wide mirror, and a bathtub deep enough to sink into after exhausting days. You can already picture lazy evenings with warm water, candlelight, and steam fogging the room.

The living room is small, but cozy. Probably where you'll spend most evenings collapsed on the couch, half-awake while watching TV or playing games with snacks scattered nearby.

Beside it sits the kitchen. Time to put all those cooking lessons—from your mom or random internet videos—to use. Or maybe you’ll survive off instant ramen and microwave dinners for the first few weeks. Food is food, after all.

And finally, your bedroom.

A wardrobe large enough for all your clothes. A wide window overlooking the city skyline and morning sunlight. A soft double bed with enough space to stretch out in every sleeping position imaginable.

Your own room. Your own apartment. Your own life. It feels unreal.

Ever since becoming an adult, you dreamed about this moment. Freedom. Independence. A place where every light switch, every creak in the floorboards, every object belonged to you.

It’s exciting. Terrifying. Perfect.

After making yourself something quick to eat, exhaustion finally settles into your bones. Moving all day had drained every ounce of energy from you. The unpacking could wait until tomorrow.

You slide beneath the blankets and stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about the future waiting beyond these walls.

Tomorrow, your new life truly begins. And with that thought, you drift off to sleep.

---

A few days as pass and it seem every night you're having an hard time falling asleep after coming home from a long day at work.

This time, you’re curled up on the couch in front of the television, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling lingering in the back of your mind. Hours pass in a blur until exhaustion creeps over you once more.

You clean up, lock the apartment door, and head to bed.

Tomorrow will be easier...probably.

The apartment is silent.Too silent.

You close your eyes, waiting for sleep to come, but it doesn’t. You toss and turn beneath the blankets.

Nothing.

Fine.

Counting sheep it is.

1 sheep, 2 sheeps, 3 sheeps, 5 sheeps, 10 sheeps, 25 sheeps, 39 sheeps, 47 sheeps, 67 sheeps, 420 sheeps, 10946177112865746368542069100 sheeps, Your thoughts slowly blur together as darkness finally begins pulling you under.

Then—

Something wakes you. Your eyes snap open. At first, you think it’s just sleep deprivation. A trick of the shadows.

But there’s a silhouette standing beside your bed.

Tall. Still. Watching you. Your bedroom door is open. You know you closed it. You remember closing it.

The figure doesn’t move.

You try to sit up. Nothing happens. Your body refuses to obey. Panic grips your chest instantly. You try to scream. Move a finger. Turn your head.

Anything. Nothing.

Your heartbeat pounds violently in your ears as pressure crushes your lungs.

Sleep paralysis.

The realization hits all at once. You force yourself to blink. Again. Again.

Slowly, control begins returning to your body. Your head twitches slightly. You manage to glance around the room.

For a moment, the figure disappears. Relief floods through you— Then it reappears.

Closer.

And no longer blurry. The creature’s body looks stretched and wrong, like rubber pulled too tightly over a frame that doesn’t fit. Its arms hang unnaturally long, nearly touching the floor. Damp navy-blue skin creases and folds with subtle movement. Its glowing yellow eyes shine in the darkness like distant headlights.

Unblinking. Focused entirely on you. A low, hoarse sound rattles from deep within its throat, barely louder than a whisper.

Then it speaks.

“Hello.”