'Darkness and trepidation lace over the isolated street, a mix one would wish not to experience at such a late time of the night, yet despite this terrifying mix. Connie's feet glide across the rain-stained asphalt, desperate to keep her night time escapades from attracting any lurkers hiding in the alleyways as she walks back to her apartment. Her heart beats rhythmically like the music she had played in her ears, she sends a desperate pray to God that she makes it to her apartment... however, one's never alone. In the dark backgrounds of the alleyways, a predator lurks with psychotic eagerness.'

I heave out a strained sigh, the continuous glare of the computer light taking a hefty toll on my head. I force myself to pull away from the word document that I was indulging in. I glance at my own phone next to me, 00:35, I stand up from the desk chair pulling my arms up and rolling my neck. Many cracks coming from my stiff joints, reminding me of my long period of typing. My eyes trail over the dark room, only my lamp and laptop's light remains. I prefer the solitude in writing in the dark, but there is always that irk of something from a horror novel coming around the corner that has traumatised my mind into paranoia. The few windows scattered around the right side of the room display the city, and even in this building down town you can still hear the movement and lights of the city.

I turn to my laptop, saving and closing the document, placing it along with the charger into my carry bag. I grab my phone with cold fingers, as I pull on my coat.

Once I leave the building, I turn my back to lock the doors. Humming softly as I twist the key, before pulling away and looking back at the street.

It has become oddly darker, no street lamps around the road guiding any travellers, and silence has replaced the faint sounds of the city.

I hesitate before pulling myself down the asphalt, trailing quietly, awfully similar to the piece I was writing. I freeze. This is my story? Why am I in...why am I Connie?I softly glance to the alleyway few 10 metres down, there would be someone there watching Connie in the story... am I being paranoid? I look back down at the road, I don't even know if I can get to my apartment, unless I somehow miraculously and oddly know Connie's or something. I look back down the street.

My blood drains cold.

There, a tall masculine figure stands at the entrance of the alleyway, watching. The figure gazed at me, head cocked to the side in a curious tilt but leaking evil. They take a slow step forward, the dark shadows caressing any telltale features from their face but my eyes don't miss the glint of a knife... a rather large knife.

Shit.