Late one night, Sarah heard a soft tapping sound coming from her window. Assuming it was just the wind, she ignored it. The tapping persisted, growing louder and more frantic. Curiosity piqued, she drew back the curtain. Standing outside was a pale figure, its face obscured by shadows. It whispered her name, chilling her to the bone. Paralyzed with fear, she stumbled back, but the figure pressed closer, its breath fogging the glass. Suddenly, her phone buzzed with a text from her mother: "I’m coming home. Don’t open the door to anyone else." Before she could process it, the figure grinned and mouthed, "Too late."