Blurb：
When Sutton Rhodes, admin of North Ridge State University's Confessions Page, receives an anonymous post about campus hauntings and missing students, she dismisses it as Fall Break boredom—until 2 a.m. dorm checks begin. A voice mimicking dorm supervisor Judy Keegan demands entry, its shadow too large, its warnings too real. As Bubbles' chilling messages reveal a pattern—out-of-state girls vanishing after midnight, unlocked windows on high floors—Sutton discovers the true horror: the stalker isn’t at the door. He’s outside her 12th-story window, mask gleaming in the dark. Trapped in her "safe" single dorm, Sutton must survive a predator who weaponizes trusted voices to hunt isolated students. But with campus empty and texts to 911 unanswered, will her discovery come too late?Content：
§01The post flickered onto my screen just after midnight, a tiny flare of digital paranoia in the vast, silent dark of my dorm room.
Post #347.
Anonymous, of course. They always were.
[Admin, total anonymity please. Our campus is haunted.]
I let out a long, weary sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose until little white dots danced in my vision.
As the unpaid, unsung, and frankly, overworked admin of the North Ridge State University Confessions Page, I thought I’d seen it all.
Cheating scandals, secret crushes, desperate pleas for notes.
But a haunting? That was a new level of Fall Break boredom.
[Last semester, a girl from my department who stayed on campus disappeared. Still missing. No one talks about it.]
My finger hovered over the delete button. Just another urban legend in the making.
[A few days ago, a senior from the next college over vanished too! Straight from her room.]
[For any girls still in the dorms, especially if you’re alone, be careful. Lock your doors at night. Please.]
I rolled my eyes, the cynicism a familiar armor.
Still… something about the tone felt chillingly off.
It wasn't the usual playful, attention-seeking drama.
The words were clipped, stripped bare of any flourish. It felt less like a story and more like a warning.
A genuine, desperate warning.
Just as I was deciding whether to ignore it, a sharp, sudden knock echoed from my dorm room door, cutting through the silence like a shard of glass.
"Knock, knock."
A pause, thick with unspoken presence.
"Dorm check."
§02
The voice, so unexpected, so out of place, was like a jolt of ice water to my system.
My phone slipped from my suddenly numb fingers, the corner of it smacking me square in the face.
"Ow—" I hissed, the sting of it a bizarrely real sensation in a moment that felt utterly surreal.
I sat bolt upright in bed, rubbing my throbbing nose, my mind racing to catch up.
A dorm check?
I glanced at the clock on my phone. 2:03 a.m.
It was on the schedule for this week, sure, but not at two in the morning.
And definitely not during Fall Break.
The twelve-story building was a concrete tomb, echoing with the ghosts of students who were smart enough to go home.
I could count the number of occupied rooms on one hand.
The student handbook was practically my bible, and I knew for a fact: no dorm checks during official university holidays.
I shook my head, trying to dispel the fog of late-night paranoia. "You're just tired, Sutton," I muttered to myself. "You're hearing things."
I was about to lie back down, to pull the covers over my head and pretend the world didn't exist.
But the knock came again.
Louder this time. Sharper. More insistent.
"Knock, knock."
"Dorm check. Open up."
And then three more, rapid-fire, like a frantic heartbeat against the wood.
"Knock. Knock. Knock."
§03
This time, there was no mistaking it.
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