Her smile faded into something colder. “That’s not the question you should be asking, Carroway. The real question is: Why?”

My heart thudded in my chest, louder than I cared to admit.

She pulled out a folded card from her coat and handed it to me. I opened it, reading the words scrawled in crimson ink:

"You’d better watch out, you’d better not cry, you’d better not pout, I’m telling you why..."

My pulse quickened. This wasn’t just some sick joke. It was a message.

“Who’s behind this?” I asked, forcing the words out.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling. “But it’s clear someone’s been watching us. Someone who knows exactly what happened.”

I stared at the photo in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. I’d been careful. I’d buried it. But someone had found the knife.

“What do you want, Sarah?” I asked, stepping toward her, trying to control the growing panic that clawed at my chest.

Her eyes glittered with something dark, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small device. A screen flickered to life, showing a grainy live feed of us—right here, right now.

I stumbled back, my breath catching. “Who’s doing this?”

“Who do you think?” Sarah replied, her eyes scanning the shadows. “Someone who wants you to know the game is far from over.”

Just as I was about to demand more answers, the screen flickered again. The words appeared:

“I’m coming to town...”

The lights suddenly went out, plunging us into complete darkness.

I swallowed hard, gripping the knife tightly in my pocket. Every sound felt amplified. My pulse, the creaking of the building, the soft whisper of movement around us.

Then, a voice—deep, menacing—sang softly in the darkness:

“You’d better watch out…”

The words were barely a whisper, but they were enough to freeze my blood.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone moving toward us. My breath caught in my throat.

"Sarah?" I called, my voice hoarse. "Where are you?"

But there was no answer.

I took a step back, my hand gripping the knife tighter. The shadows felt like they were closing in. I wasn’t alone.

And then, the voice came again, closer this time, its tone mocking.

“I see you when you’re sleeping... I know when you’re awake...”

My heart nearly stopped. My mind raced—this wasn’t just a game anymore. Whoever was doing this knew exactly what I’d done, and they weren’t going to stop until I paid for it.

“Sarah?” I whispered again, fear choking my voice.

But there was no response. Only the sound of a footstep echoing in the darkness.

And then, the voice came again, softer this time, like a cold breath against my ear:

“Merry Christmas, Carroway...”

And with that, the world went completely still. The shadows seemed to press in on me, and I realized—I wasn’t alone at all.