The Shadow in the Corner

Heavy rain had been pouring over the city since the afternoon. Raka turned on his dim bedroom light, trying to drive away the uneasiness that had been haunting him. For the past few weeks, he had felt something watching him. Not from outside, but from inside his own room.

Every night, from the corner near the wardrobe, he always saw a dark shadow standing still. At first, he thought it was just an illusion—maybe the effect of sleep deprivation due to his piled-up work. But over time, the feeling became more real. Raka could feel the eyes staring at him, the labored breathing, and the air around him turning suddenly cold.

One night, he mustered the courage to record that corner of the room with his phone. He placed it on the table, facing directly at the wardrobe. He had no idea what he would see later, but he had to find out.

In the morning, with his heart pounding, he played the recording. At first, nothing seemed unusual. But at the third minute, something began to move in the corner of the screen. The shadow appeared—slowly. Its figure was indistinct, tall, and its eyes seemed hollow. Then, exactly at the fifth minute, something incomprehensible happened.

The figure turned its head, staring straight at the camera.

"You see me, don't you?" a raspy voice echoed clearly.

Raka fell off his chair. His phone slipped from his grasp, and the screen immediately went black. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest. He gathered the courage to glance at the corner of the room.

Empty.

But the air grew even colder. As if something was standing behind him, waiting for him to realize it.

Slowly, he heard heavy breathing in his ear.

"Now... I'm closer."

The bedroom light suddenly went out.