A Haunting New Beginning

Description

Script Vidéo

Emily had just moved into the old Victorian house at the edge of town. It was a fresh start—a new chapter after her divorce. The house was charming, with creaky floors and vintage wallpaper, but it had sat empty for years. She loved it, even if it felt a bit too quiet at night.One evening, as the sun set, Emily sat by the window with a cup of tea. The street outside was empty, bathed in a fading orange glow. She sighed, letting the warmth of the tea relax her. That’s when she noticed it—a figure standing under the streetlamp across the road.A man. Still. Staring.She squinted, but his features were lost in shadow. Goosebumps rose on her arms. She looked away, then back. He was gone. Emily laughed at herself, blaming exhaustion.That night, as she settled into bed, she heard soft tapping at her bedroom window. She lived on the second floor. Heart pounding, she forced herself to look. Nothing. Just the wind, she told herself.The next morning, she found footprints in the dew on the porch roof outside her window. Her stomach churned. She called the police, but they found nothing—no signs of forced entry, no evidence of anyone climbing up. “Probably an animal,” they said.But the feeling of being watched lingered.Days passed. The figure under the streetlamp returned every evening, always just beyond clarity. She stopped looking out the windows at night. She closed the curtains tight, but the tapping continued.One morning, exhausted from lack of sleep, Emily decided to install security cameras. She set them up to cover the entire exterior of the house and connected them to her phone. That night, she lay in bed, staring at the live feed.1:00 a.m.The tapping started again, more insistent. Her phone vibrated—Motion Detected: Back Door.Her screen showed the empty backyard. She switched cameras. Front door, driveway, side windows—all clear. The tapping turned to scratching.Her pulse raced. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, watching the feeds. Then, on the camera facing her bedroom window, she saw it—him.A pale face pressed against the glass. Wide, unblinking eyes. A grin too wide, lips pulled back to reveal blackened teeth. His fingers scratched at the glass, leaving smeared streaks.Emily’s phone slipped from her hand. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Slowly, his head tilted, his eyes never leaving hers through the camera lens.Then, the feed cut to static.Silence swallowed the room.She heard the window slide open behind her.The police found her the next morning, the bedroom empty except for the open window and the cold breeze.The house sits vacant again, waiting.And every evening, under the dim streetlamp, a figure stands, still and staring, as if waiting for someone new to move in.