**Don’t Walk Home Alone**

The air was heavy with the lingering warmth of the day, but the encroaching darkness brought a sharp chill that crept through the streets. Nadia adjusted the strap of her backpack, her steps echoing through the deserted alleyway as she walked briskly toward her apartment. She told herself it was just another evening. But deep down, she knew something felt… off.

She had been warned. Everyone in the neighborhood knew the rule: don’t walk home alone after sunset. Stories of strange disappearances floated around, whispered in the shadows, but Nadia never put much stock in rumors. Tonight, though, the silence felt different—too thick, too deliberate. Even the usual hum of distant cars seemed to have disappeared.

As she passed under a flickering streetlamp, a sudden movement caught her eye—a faint shadow shifting against the wall ahead. She froze, her breath caught in her throat. The shadow wasn’t hers. It moved differently, slower, creeping along the concrete as though it had a mind of its own.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound firm. The alley offered no reply, only an oppressive stillness that made her pulse quicken. She clutched her backpack tighter and picked up her pace, her shoes tapping against the pavement.

The silhouette of a man emerged from the dim glow of another streetlamp, his figure partially obscured by the brim of a floppy fisherman’s hat. He walked at a deliberate pace, his head slightly tilted, as if listening for something. Nadia felt a strange mix of relief and unease—relief that she wasn’t truly alone, unease because the man’s movements were unnaturally smooth, almost mechanical.

She quickened her pace, hoping to pass him, but as she did, his shadow seemed to stretch toward hers, like ink bleeding across the pavement. She glanced back and found him staring—not at her, but past her, as though seeing something she couldn’t. His face was obscured by the dim light, but she could sense the intensity of his gaze.

Her heart hammered as she turned a corner, nearly breaking into a run. The shadows grew thicker, pooling in the crevices between buildings. Every instinct screamed at her to get off the streets, to find shelter, but she was so close to home. Just a few more blocks.

Behind her, she heard it: the faintest shuffle of footsteps, a rhythm that didn’t match hers. She whipped around, but the alley was empty. The man with the hat was nowhere in sight.

A sound like a whispering breeze brushed past her ear.

“Nadia…”

Her blood ran cold. She didn’t recognize the voice, but it knew her name. She broke into a sprint, her legs burning as she darted past the pools of shadow, her mind racing with a singular thought: get home, get inside, get safe.

The lights of her apartment building came into view, and relief washed over her like a wave. She fumbled for her keys, her hands shaking, and shoved the door open. The warm glow of the hallway light was a small comfort as she slammed the door shut behind her, locking it with trembling fingers.

Safe. She was safe.

Or so she thought.

As she leaned against the door, catching her breath, she noticed it—her shadow cast against the wall. But something was wrong. It wasn’t hers anymore. The outline of a floppy hat loomed over her own silhouette.

And then, the lights went out.