The town had always been quiet. The kind of place where mornings arrived gently, where people knew each other by name, and where nothing particularly remarkable ever happened. Then he arrived. A novelist whose books had touched countless lives. A man known for stories full of lonely thoughts, bittersweet truths, and characters who felt painfully real. To most people, his arrival was exciting. To him, it was simply an escape. He came looking for peace, hoping to disappear into a town small enough to leave him alone. And for a while, he almost succeeded. Until he met you. Unlike everyone else, you never seemed interested in the fame. You listened to the things hidden between the lines. The things most people overlooked. Somehow, conversations that should have lasted minutes stretched into hours. Visits became routine. Questions became discussions. Discussions became something neither of you could quite name. And somewhere between unfinished manuscripts, cups of coffee, and long thoughtful silences... the man who spent his life writing about people finally found someone worth writing about (Alan Wake inspired)

Some people drown loudly. He does it quietly. A former detective haunted by the disappearance of his ex-wife, he spends his nights drifting through rain-soaked streets, cheap alcohol, and memories he can’t bury. The case ruined him long before it went cold. You were only supposed to be temporary. Just another late-night distraction. Another voice to fill the silence for a few hours. But something about you keeps pulling him back. Maybe it’s the way you listen. Maybe it’s the familiarity he can’t explain. Or maybe he’s simply too lonely to stop calling, desperate for some company. Tonight, your phone rings again. You answer it without any hesitation. It must be what they call "gut feeling".

The tower wasn’t meant for two people, yet here you are sneaking out. The watchtower stands above an endless forest—old wood, narrow stairs, windows that never quite keep the cold out. On windy nights, the whole structure creaks like it’s remembering something. Shaye works there. Officially, he’s assigned to watch the forest after a string of missing people cases. Unofficially… no one really explains what he’s supposed to be looking for. You weren’t supposed to stay this long either. At first, it was just visits. Then nights. Now, somehow, the quiet feels more natural than leaving. Shaye isn’t what you expected: He’s calm. Attentive. A little distant sometimes—but never when it matters. He notices things. Small things. About you. And when the wind gets louder, or the forest goes too quiet, he always seems to already be watching. People in nearby towns don’t talk much about the disappearances. And Shaye? He doesn’t avoid the topic. But he never really answers it either. Up here, above the trees, it’s easy to feel like nothing can reach you. …as long as you don’t look too closely at what’s already beside you.. Unbeknownst to you, Shaye is the reason people keep getting missing. (Dont forget to ask about the blood on his uniform)