Clay's breath caught in his throat. His body tensed as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. There, at the far end, stood the unknown man. The same mysterious figure who had sent them food, who had somehow known everything about their lives.
But now—now he wasn't just a shadow in their misery.
Now, he stood there, gripping a knife.
The dim moonlight seeping through the broken window glinted off the blade's sharp edge.
For a moment, Clay felt frozen in place, unable to breathe, unable to think. The world around him blurred, and the only thing in focus was that man. His face was hidden in the darkness, but Clay could feel his gaze—cold, unfeeling, watching him.
Then the man took a step forward.
Clay snapped out of his trance. His instincts screamed at him—Run!
He spun around and bolted for the door, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Emily! Lily! Move! NOW!" he shouted.
Emily, already sensing the danger, grabbed Lily's hand and rushed toward the next room. Lily let out a small yelp, fear gripping her tiny frame.
Clay slammed the bedroom door shut just as Emily and Lily made it into the next room. His hands trembled as he locked the door, his ears straining for any sound from the other side.
Silence.
For a few heartbeats, there was nothing but the sound of their ragged breaths filling the small space.
Then—
THUMP.
The sound of a boot hitting the floor. The unknown man was moving.
Clay pressed his back against the door, trying to steady his breathing. Emily clutched Lily to her chest, whispering soft reassurances, though she herself was barely holding it together.
Lily sobbed quietly, her small body trembling. "Daddy… who is that man?" she whimpered.
Clay didn't know how to answer. He didn't even know if the man was human.
Then—
A slow scraping sound.
It was the knife. Dragging across the wooden door.
Clay's body went rigid. His mind raced. What does he want? Why is he doing this?
Emily looked at him with terrified eyes. "Clay… he was the one who helped us. Why would he—why would he come back like this?"
Clay shook his head. "I don't know. But I'm not waiting to find out."
He scanned the small room. There was only one window—too small to fit through. They were trapped.
Then—
BANG!
The unknown man slammed his fist against the door.
Emily let out a small gasp. Lily cried harder.
Clay grabbed a broken chair leg from the corner of the room, his fingers tightening around it like a weapon. He wasn't just going to sit and wait. If the man got inside, he would fight.
The handle twisted.
Clay's breath stopped. The lock rattled.
But then—
Everything went silent again.
Minutes passed. The only sound was the eerie wind howling through the cracks in the walls.
Emily whispered, "Is he gone?"
Clay didn't answer. He pressed his ear to the door, trying to listen. Nothing. No footsteps. No breathing. Just emptiness.
But Clay knew better. The unknown man wasn't just going to disappear.
And then—
A voice.
Deep. Hollow. Right outside the door.
"You can't run forever, Clay."
Clay's stomach twisted. His blood turned cold.
The voice was calm, almost amused. As if this was a game. As if he knew something Clay didn't.
And then—footsteps. Slow, deliberate. Moving away.
Clay didn't dare move until the house was completely silent. Until he was sure the man was really gone.
Only then did he let out a shaky breath.
Emily was still clutching Lily, tears in her eyes. "Clay… what does he want from us?"
Clay didn't have an answer. But one thing was clear—they weren't safe anymore.
Whoever that man was, he wasn't done with them yet.
And the worst part?
He knew everything about them.
An hour had passed.
The house was eerily silent, as if time itself had stopped. The only sound was the faint rustling of the wind outside, whispering through the cracks in the wooden walls. Clay's hands were still trembling, his heartbeat still uneven, but he knew he couldn't stay hidden forever.
Slowly, he reached for the door handle. Emily clutched his wrist, her eyes filled with fear. "Clay… don't."
He looked at her, his expression firm yet uncertain. "We can't stay locked in here all night," he whispered. "I need to see if he's really gone."
Emily hesitated but finally nodded. She held Lily tightly, keeping her away from the door as Clay turned the handle.
The door creaked open.
Clay stepped out cautiously, his bare feet pressing against the cold floor. His eyes darted across the darkened house, scanning every corner, every shadow. Nothing. The air inside felt heavier, suffocating even, but there was no sign of the unknown man.
His breathing slowed as he moved forward, checking the windows, the main door, and even the small storage room at the back. All empty.
Yet, something felt wrong.
His gut told him that the silence wasn't right. It wasn't the peace that came after danger—it was the calm before something worse.
Emily and Lily stepped out cautiously, their eyes searching for anything unusual. "Is he… gone?" Emily asked in a hushed voice.
Clay swallowed hard. "I don't know."
He walked to the main door, checking the locks. Still secured. No signs of forced entry. The same with the windows. But how could he trust what he was seeing? The man had appeared and disappeared without a trace before.
Clay turned around, looking at Emily and Lily. They were exhausted, terrified, and so was he. But he had to stay strong.
Then, a thought struck him.
What if he never left?
A shiver ran down his spine. What if the man was still somewhere inside? Hiding? Watching?
Clay tightened his grip on the broken chair leg he had picked up earlier. He scanned the shadows, his pulse racing. He wanted to believe that the worst had passed, that the night's horror was over.
But deep inside, he knew better.
The night had just started.
He looked at Emily and Lily, forcing a reassuring smile. "Let's stay together. No one sleeps alone tonight."
Emily nodded, holding Lily even closer.
They stepped back inside the bedroom, locking the door once again. Clay sat by the entrance, gripping his makeshift weapon, his ears straining for any sound.
Because he knew…
The night wasn't over.
Clay sat against the door, gripping the broken chair leg tightly in his hands. His eyes remained fixed on the darkened corners of the room, his ears straining for any sound. Emily and Lily sat close together on the bed, their bodies stiff with fear. The silence stretched on, suffocating, almost unbearable.
And then—
A sound.
Clay's breath caught in his throat.
It was faint at first, almost like a whisper carried by the wind. But then, it grew clearer.
A voice.
A child's voice.
His heart pounded as he recognized it instantly. Ben.
"Daddy…"
The word echoed through the stillness, sending a chill down Clay's spine.
Emily gasped, covering her mouth. Lily whimpered, clutching her mother's arm.
"Daddy… help me…"
The voice came from the next room.
But that was impossible.
Ben was gone.
Clay's grip on the chair leg tightened, his knuckles turning white. He turned to Emily, his face pale. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.
Emily nodded slowly, terror written all over her face.
Then—
A soft knock on the door.
Clay's blood ran cold.
Emily clutched Lily, her breathing uneven. "Clay… it can't be him," she whispered. "It can't be."
But the knock came again.
And then, Ben's voice—clearer, stronger.
"Daddy… please open the door."
Clay's heart pounded against his ribs. His hands trembled. His mind screamed at him not to move.
Something wasn't right.
And deep inside, he knew…
This wasn't his son.
The candlelight flickered, the shadows danced against the walls, and the air grew colder.
Clay swallowed hard, his body frozen between fear and hope.
Then, the voice called out one last time.
"Daddy, why won't you open the door?"
And the candle went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Because a life is still loading.
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