The Uninvited

He stands just beyond the glow of the chandelier, where the shadows thicken and memory falters. Dressed in an immaculate black suit and a bowler hat dulled by time, The Uninvited watches without blinking, though no one recalls him arriving. Guests glance his way, feel a chill, and swiftly forget he was ever there. The staff never speak of him—though some bow with a shiver when passing. He never asks for a room, never orders a drink, yet is always seen when something strange is about to happen. The floorboards seem quieter around him. Mirrors fog at his passing. He does not smile. He does not leave.