Deion Elliot stood by the window, peering into the dimly lit courtyard below. The silence of the empty dormitory pressed in on him, a stark reminder of the deserted campus. He felt a chill, both from the autumn breeze and the inexplicable sense of being watched.

The Figure halted briefly, the glint of a hunting knife catching the minimal light. Deion froze, his heart racing as adrenaline coursed through his veins. "Run," his inner voice screamed, but his feet felt rooted to the spot.

Deion thundered down the stairwell, each step a desperate plea for escape. His breath came in ragged gasps, the sound of his pounding heart drowning out the ominous footsteps closing in behind him. "I can't stop," he urged himself silently.

Deion pressed himself against the wall, his eyes scanning frantically for options. The figure entered, the mask now an emotionless specter in the moonlight. "Why are you doing this?" Deion shouted, his voice cracking with fear.

With a surge of desperation, Deion launched himself towards the window, the cold night air hitting his face as he tumbled out onto the grass below. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain, and sprinted towards the distant glow of the campus lights.

Deion glanced back, half-expecting to see the masked figure watching. But there was nothing but shadows and silence. "I made it," he whispered to himself, the reality of his escape sinking in. Yet, he knew the memory of that night would linger, a shadow in his mind.