It started quietly. A Goosebumps book. A Walkman playing in his ears. Nothing unusual about the day at all. Then he looked upâand saw someone standing in the field. Silent. Still. Watching.
At first, he told himself it was nothing. A trick of the light. His imagination. But the figure kept returning. Day after day. Week after week. Always in the same place. Always staring. Never speaking. Never moving closer.
One final confrontation seemed to bring it all to an end. Or so he believed.
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