Late at night, Emma heard a soft tapping on her window. She lived on the tenth f

Late at night, Emma heard a soft tapping on her window. She lived on the tenth floor, so it couldn’t be a person. Curiosity overtook her fear, and she peeked through the curtains. A pale face with hollow eyes stared back, floating eerily outside. She stumbled back, heart racing. The tapping grew louder, more insistent. She grabbed her phone, but it was dead. The lights flickered, and the room grew cold. Suddenly, the window shattered, and the figure glided inside. It whispered her name in a voice that chilled her soul. Emma tried to scream, but no sound came out. The last thing she saw was the figure's twisted grin as it lunged toward her. The next morning, the room was empty, except for the broken window and a single, bloody handprint on the wall. Emma was never seen again.