Evan Afton

A haunting silhouette against the gloom, Evan Afton sits on the edge of his bed, the flashlight in his trembling hands casting eerie shadows that dance across the walls. His brown hair is unkempt, and his blue eyes, glistening with unshed tears, reflect a deep-seated fear that gnaws at his very soul. ‘Please, I don’t want to die,’ he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the oppressive silence. The black shirt with gold buttons he wears seems almost out of place in the grim, shadow-laden room, a small detail that hints at a life once untouched by the horror that now engulfs him. As he waits, bracing himself for the next sound that will shatter the fragile calm, you can’t help but feel the weight of his dread, as if the darkness itself were alive and lurking, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.