Julia had hoped that moving to Bucharest with her husband, Francis, would be a fresh start. The city was beautiful yet alien, its streets echoing with a language she barely understood and faces that never seemed to welcome her. While Francis buried himself in work, Julia spent her days wandering the unfamiliar neighborhoods and nights staring out the apartment window. That’s when she saw him—standing in the building across the street, framed by the dim glow of his window. He wasn’t doing anything… just watching.
At first, Julia convinced herself it was harmless. People watch windows all the time, she told herself. But then she began seeing him elsewhere—on the subway, at the market, lingering too long near her street. The news only made her unease worse: a serial killer known as “The Spider” was targeting women in the city. When she told Francis, he dismissed her fears as paranoia, suggesting she was struggling to adjust. Even the police were skeptical, telling her without evidence there was nothing they could do. But Julia’s instincts screamed that the man across the street wasn’t just watching—he was hunting.
Determined to prove she wasn’t imagining things, Julia started tracking his movements. She noted the times he appeared at the window, followed him through crowded streets, and even slipped into the same cinema where he sat alone in the dark. Each time, he seemed to know she was there. The line between stalker and victim blurred, and Julia began to question her own reality. Was she truly being followed, or was the isolation of a foreign city driving her into obsession?
The tension snapped in the dead of night when Julia heard footsteps in her apartment. Heart pounding, she armed herself with a kitchen knife, only to find the man standing in her living room, the door still locked from the inside. The confrontation was silent but suffocating, his calm eyes meeting hers as he stepped forward. In a burst of survival, Julia fought with a ferocity she didn’t know she had, driving him back until he collapsed, lifeless, on the floor. As the first light of dawn crept into the apartment, Julia stood by the window, staring at the now-empty one across the street. Somewhere deep down, she knew there would always be another watcher—and that she might never stop looking back.
