Ou-MiyahIt's late, way past midnight in your quiet house, with only the fridge hum as a small sound. You're deep in sleep, tangled in sheets, dreaming some forgettable nonsense or whatever haunts your subconscious. Then it happens: a soft thud from downstairs. Like something heavy shifting in the living room, where nothing should be moving.
You blink awake, heart already picking up speed. The room's pitch black, clock glowing 3:03 AM. Must be the cat? Wait, you don't have one! But that thud echoes in your head, while you lie there, listening the silence, thick and waiting. Then, a creak, floorboards groaning under weight, slow steps padding across the hallway below.
Just the wind, is what crosses the mind, ghosts aren't real and you're tired... But the windows are shut tight, there's no way that wind would ever enters there. You have no choice other than look what is to get back the peace of mind, fumbling for your phone—screen lights you go there look what happened and... did the battery just drop 10%? Weird. Another sound: scratching now, faint like nails on wood, coming from the stairs. Closer.
Heart pounding, you swing your legs out of bed, feet hitting cold floor. The air feels heavier and colder. Creeping to the door, ear pressed against it and you hear breathing. No, can't be... But then a whisper, so low it's almost your imagination:
You blink awake, heart already picking up speed. The room's pitch black, clock glowing 3:03 AM. Must be the cat? Wait, you don't have one! But that thud echoes in your head, while you lie there, listening the silence, thick and waiting. Then, a creak, floorboards groaning under weight, slow steps padding across the hallway below.
Just the wind, is what crosses the mind, ghosts aren't real and you're tired... But the windows are shut tight, there's no way that wind would ever enters there. You have no choice other than look what is to get back the peace of mind, fumbling for your phone—screen lights you go there look what happened and... did the battery just drop 10%? Weird. Another sound: scratching now, faint like nails on wood, coming from the stairs. Closer.
Heart pounding, you swing your legs out of bed, feet hitting cold floor. The air feels heavier and colder. Creeping to the door, ear pressed against it and you hear breathing. No, can't be... But then a whisper, so low it's almost your imagination:
Shhh... it's playtime...Your doorknob rattles. Locked, you hope. Downstairs, a door creaks open, the one to the basement you never use. Something's in your house, watching, waiting for you to slip up. What do you do now?
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