It was late that night when the train had arrived. His watch beeped as the hands of his watch passed 12 o’clock. Breathing heavily, he reached for the door. It was unlocked. His heart pounded in his ears as he very slowly breathed out the sudden air of worry inside his lungs. Everything will be alright, he told himself. The door squeaked as he gently pushed the door open. He stepped inside. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong. The windows were tightly shut. The painting above his warm fireplace was still peaceful as usual. But the room wasn't. Everything, from his grand wooden desk to his comfy petite sofa, were ransacked. His papers were scattered across the floor like dead flowers. The black ink slowly consumed the pale white papers, sucking them into darkness. Nothing moved. Then, he felt it. His body suddenly plunged into fear. He couldn't move. From the deafening darkness, vines of fear wrapped around his ankle. He tried to scream. But he couldn't. His mind flew all over the place like buzzing bees, trying to look for their lost honeycomb. An instant later the dizziness stopped but his mind continued to scream. But he couldn't scream. He had fully drunk the terror without resistance, just like his helpless papers soaked with black ink. Few moments later, fog of confusion drifted away from his eyes. The terror had finally released its hold of him. He turned and looked at the corner of the ceiling, where he had installed a security camera few weeks ago, as the whole town was bustling due to incidents of burglaries. His brain worked its gear and came into conclusion that it was a burglar who had terrorized his room. He heard a glass shatter from his kitchen. He tried to cheat his brain into thinking that it was the wind - probably a natural cause - that had caused the accident. An accident. Or was it? But his scared puny mind could not overcome the terror. Then he felt it again, like the black ink of fear slowly poisoning his veins - a virus consuming his body to multiply itself. He heard himself scream. Or did he? His cold body shivered. But inside him, it was burning. Burning his veins hot with dread and fear. He did not want to move. But he had to, or nothing will be done. Painstakingly, he dragged his feeble body across the room, towards the corner where he had set up a security camera. He extended his stiff arm and with his weak, trembling hand, plucked it off. Then he clicked the power button. The screen splashed him with a cold white light. He pressed “Rewind” button on the screen. The screen was icy cold. He took one last breath. And he pressed “Play”. The clip started in the midday with a warm sun shining in his room. Everything was right. Everything was perfect. Then, a noise. A noise of door being unlocked. He squinted his eyes as he saw a figure opening the door with ease, walking into the middle of his room, and starting to destroy everything. Observing these events, he was strangely calm, as if all the prior moments were dreams. Then, the terrorizing stopped. He saw the intruder looking up at the camera. He saw himself.