The patient entered with measured, heavy steps, as if testing the room with each footfall. His hands made slight movements on the table, shoulders occasionally twitched, and the soft rasp of his short breaths broke the stillness of the office. Every gesture revealed a deep, genuine fear simmering beneath his calm exterior. When he sat down, his weight pressed into the chair and the floor slightly trembled, despite the absence of any other presence. He described that during the threshold between wakefulness and sleep, another entity occupies his space. It cannot be seen, touched, or named, yet it is perceivable through the body’s physical responses. He recounted simple but unsettling occurrences: The lamp next to the bed tilted slightly with a soft, almost imperceptible sound A cup of water on the bedside table had shifted from its original position Indentations in the mattress suggested movement or weight that was not his own His fear was tangible; his heartbeat accelerated, his breaths were short and shaky, as if his entire body synchronized with the anxiety in the environment.