As the evening drew in, the house became bathed in an eerie, golden light.

The windows, like empty eyes, stared out onto the deserted landscape.

The wind whispered through the trees, causing the branches to sway in an unsettling rhythm.

Inside, a man sat motionless in a high backed armchair, his eyes fixed on the flickering of an old television.

His hair was grey and unkempt, framing his face like a wild halo.

The room was dimly lit, with a few lamps and the sun's reflection from the curtain casting a warm glow.

The man's face was a map of deep lines and creases, etched into his skin.

His eyes, though sunken, seemed to hold a deep, unblinking intensity as he watched the TV. 

The television, an old, boxy model with a cracked screen, seemed to be broadcasting a signal from another era.

There was a lady, speaking, her words were croaky and distorted, she couldn't be heard clearly, still, the man was focused greatly on the TV.

The inside of the house was sure fashionable, there were golden relics all around the settings of the house.

The man's eyes were focused on the flickering of the TV. 

For a while, you could hear murmurs die down slowly before a loud, sharp sound overtakes the domineering silence.

Jack groans, he curses at the cup before exasperatedly getting up, he reaches to an old wooden table in front of him and picks up the remote, pausing the news video on the TV.

He goes to get a brush to clean up the broken pieces.

'Researchers have confirmed a ghost hunt happening in village of Ravenswood, all residents are now being moved...' The news called.

'And those who have not been moved have been asked to evacuate as quick as possible...' 

The man Jack groans once again, he didn't even turn off the TV. 

He picks up the large shatters and puts them on a flat similar broken shatter. He wasn't halfway done when the power went out.

He could still see light through the curtains but as he tried to place the broken glass back on the floor, the night also wore out.

The room seemed to grow darker, the shadows deepening and twisting into strange, menacing form.

The man remained motionless for a while as if he was meditating or waiting for something to happen. 

The room was plunged into darkness, the only sound the creaking of the old house and the distant howling of the wind. 

Jack cursed again, he was annoyed.

He carefully places down the shattered cup and tries to use his hand to navigate.

He had lived in the housing over a year in the forest, according to the villagers and had concealed himself close to the forest away from the villagers in the central area.

Most people claimed he was a criminal trying to hide, or even an undercover cop, or he was just weird and mysterious.

No one ever really went there apart from hunters or farmers.

His power could have gone off anytime, it could even be more than just a power off.

As he moves forward stretching out his hands, his fingers tremble with anticipation.

The darkness was absolute, a living entity that wrapped around him like a shroud.

He took a tentative step forward, his hands sweeping the air like antennae.

But instead of the familiar couch he passed by while going to the kitchen, his fingers collided with something solid. A wall.

His mind recoiled in confusion. There was no wall there.

Jack knew every inch of his house, every nook and cranny. He took a step back, his heart racing with a growing sense of unease. He turned around, hoping to navigate around the obstruction. 

But as his hands extended, there it was, another wall.

Panic set in, his breath coming in short gasps. He spun around, his hands flailing wildly.

But every direction he turned, he met a wall, it was as if he was trapped in a maze of darkness. 

The man Jack stumbled, his hands grasping for anything that might anchor him to reality. And then, his fingers brushed against something.

It was a figure, standing motionless in the darkness, Jack's heart skipped over a beat.

The skin was cool and smooth, like marble. But it didn't feel...human. It was too still, too quiet. 

He ran his face over the figure's face, searching for features but there were none. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. Just a smooth, blank expanse.

He tried to pull his hands away, but they seemed rooted to the figure.

A creeping sense of dread seeped into his bones as he realized that he was not alone in the darkness.

And whatever was standing in front of him, it was watching him, waiting for him.

Soon, there was an ominous whispering.

At first, it sounded like a sharp distant whistle then it began, like a chant. It was pure confusion, and torture.

The man Jack screams and tries to run away from the agonizing image when he is suddenly pulled harshly by his hair.

He tries to pull away, the hand felt like a ton of bricks layered, pulling him.

He feels the force, dragging him to an unknown place, in his house.

His head shoves backward forcefully and gets thrusted onto the edge of the metal rusty table in his living room.

It was dark, pure black, the hits re-occurred about or over thirty times, blood spilling out rapidly.

 He felt himself going dizzy, his head hurt so bad as the hits became more fiercer and the edge of the table dug deeper into head, his naked skin could be seen, all parts of his forehead down to his ear, all excised deeply.

Jack pushed himself away, panting, breathlessly trying to get away rapidly. Suddenly, he hears the landline go off.

The man frantically tries to get to the landline, he had only one phrase in his mind... 'GET THE PHONE'. QUICK.

He rushes to the other side of the living room, dripping in blood, trying hard to follow the sound.

A few feet away, was the glass filled with water he had broken some time ago, still on the ground as he had left it.

He could have sworn he saw death flash right at his face like a dream as he slipped on the plank floors of his living room, falling faced forward...

Right into the glass shards on the floor, every angle of his body pierced with the glass shards.

Everything dies down, including the man. The landline cuts.

The brightness of the room slowly gets retrieved as things are back, as they were. The warm glow of the living room.

The lady on the TV speaking, her voice still distorted as she's talking about politics. 

The man Jack, sitting on a couch in front of the TV, focused on what's being said, he hadn't gotten to that part.

He placed his legs on the old wooden table, smiling at the television before he gets startled at a sharp noise.

He had mistakenly knocked off the cup from the table and it was now broken into several pieces.

The man cursed as he got up to get something to clean the mess.

The landline goes off, just like earlier but oddly, sooner. He picked up the remote in order to pause the TV and oddly, again, it paused.

Jack grunted. 'Whoever it is, can wait' He frowned.

He goes to the kitchen and behind him, he heard another shatter, he looked back frantically, it was the glass, the one that just broke, a minute ago.

The phone goes off again, Jack looked unsure of what was happening.

The TV turns on, the same news broadcast, this time, he hears it.

'Those who have not been moved have been asked to evacuate immediately, the area...' Jack heard it, he realised as if he had seen it.

He hurries to the landline to pick up the call, or make one, just five feet away from the phone.

Just then, the power goes....off.