It was around 2 a.m. when my eyes snapped open. At first, I thought I woke up to get a drink of water, but something felt... off. The darkness in my room was overwhelming, so thick that I couldn't even see my own fingers.
I assumed the power had gone out. But there was something unsettling about the silence—a strange, suffocating stillness that made the walls around me feel alive, as though they were watching me.
I tried to sit up, cautiously lowering my feet to the floor. The moment my toes touched the ground, a shiver ran through me. It felt like stepping on something cold and damp. My heart began to race.
I reached for my phone on the bedside table, but it wasn't there. That's when I heard it—a faint sound, like footsteps... inside my room.
"Who's there?" I called out, my voice barely steady.
Silence.
I tried again, louder this time. Still no reply. But then, I heard it—a slow, deliberate exhale, right behind me. The hairs on my neck stood on end as I turned around ever so slowly, bracing for what I might see.
There was nothing there.
---
I leaned against the wall for support, trying to steady my breathing. But then, the sound came again—this time closer. A faint shuffle, like someone dragging their feet across the floor.
My instincts screamed at me to run, but my legs refused to move. And then it happened—a cold hand touched my shoulder.
The chill of that touch seeped into my skin, freezing me in place. My breath hitched, and my mind raced with a single, paralyzing thought: Is this real? Or am I dreaming?
With all the courage I could muster, I spun around. Nothing. Just the oppressive darkness.
But then, I heard it—another sound. A low, rhythmic thud. At first, I thought it was the pounding of my own heart, but no. It was something else. Footsteps. They were circling me, slow and deliberate, like a predator playing with its prey.
My trembling hand found the small flashlight I kept by my bed. I fumbled to turn it on. The beam of light cut through the darkness, but only barely. It felt as though the shadows were swallowing it whole.
And then, on the far wall, I saw it—a shadow.
But it wasn't mine.
---
The shadow was long and distorted, its movements unnatural, like it belonged to something twisted and broken. I stared, frozen, as it began to shift and ripple, as though trying to pull itself free from the wall.
"You shouldn't be here," a whisper brushed against my ear, soft but chilling.
I spun around, but the room was empty.
By now, my entire body was trembling. I took a hesitant step toward the door, hoping to escape this nightmare, but the floor beneath me felt icy, almost as though I were standing on frozen water.
The door creaked open on its own. Beyond it was a darkness even deeper than the one in my room. But in the distance, there was a faint glimmer of light—a small, flickering beacon.
I hesitated, every fiber of my being screaming at me to stay put. But something about that light called to me, promising safety. Just as I stepped toward it, the whisper returned—louder, sharper:
"If you go, you'll never come back."
---
I turned, and that's when I saw it.
It wasn't human.
Its face resembled a person's, but its eyes were hollow voids, black pits that seemed to draw in all the light. Its neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, and its long, bony fingers reached toward me, beckoning.
The shadow on the wall had come to life. It moved with an unsettling fluidity, inching closer with every passing second.
"Leave now, and you'll regret it forever," it hissed, its voice like a thousand whispers layered over one another.
I did the only thing I could think of—I aimed the flashlight directly at it. The beam hit the figure, and it dissolved into the darkness. But the silence that followed was heavier, darker, more suffocating than before.
---
I knew I had to leave. I bolted for the door, ignoring the cold that numbed my feet. The light beyond the doorway grew brighter, almost blinding. As I crossed the threshold, I felt the air around me shift, like I was stepping into another world.
When I turned back, the door was gone.
I was standing in the middle of a dense forest. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth, and faint, distant screams echoed through the trees.
On the ground before me, written in blood, were the words:
"You were warned. Now, you'll never escape."
I spun around, searching for any way out, but all I saw were shadows—shadows that moved, that crept closer with every breath I took. Their voices filled the air, a chorus of whispers:
"You belong to us now. You'll never leave."
---
I tried to scream, to run, but my body felt like it was sinking into the earth. My vision blurred, and I collapsed to my knees. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my room.
Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived. My gaze fell on the wall across from me, and there it was—written in dark, dripping letters:
"You escaped this time. But we'll return."