OK, so, something weird happened just a moment ago. I was sitting at my computer when the door to my room creaked open. Slowly, a bright, round face popped in. The man had a big, unmoving smile and his eyes were wide open. Then, as suddenly as he appeared he snuck back behind the door and out of view.
I am still sitting in front of my computer. I am too scared to go check what the hell is going on. I have a feeling the door will open any minute now...
You are in your bathtub, taking a shower. You are washing your hair, eyes firmly closed to keep the shampoo out. You are thinking about a good comeback you should have said to that guy in the morning. Then, the feeling that someone is sitting right behind you in the tub creeps its way into your mind. A shadow-veiled man with no eyes and sharp teeth, or a girl with wet, black hair falling on her deathly pale face. You try to shake these thoughts away. You don't want your imagination overreacting to an irrational fear. You are not a kid anymore, you know that there can be nothing behind you. To convince yourself, you decide to take a look behind you. You wash your eyes, steel yourself, and turn around.
There is nothing there. Of course there isn't. You were just being silly. Still, you do not turn back around. What if something is there, waiting for you to turn around. What if your eyes lock with the glassy eyes of a long dead man, or the empty eye sockets of a ghoul. Once more you steel your nerves and turn around. Nothing. Of course there is nothing.
You finish up your shower and exit the bathtub. You pull the curtain closed and you dry yourself off with your towel. You open the door and turn to leave.
Wait, did you just hear the shower curtain rustling open, or was it your imagination?
John opens the door to his grandma's apartment. She hasn't called him for days and he is worried for her. He walks across the wooden floor, which creaks loudly under his step.
"Grandma?" he calls out, but there is no response.
He slowly makes his way to the living room. Middle way through, he passes through a cobweb, which snaps with an indistinguishable 'ting'.
"Cobwebs? In here?"
The door to the living room is half-open. Through the opening he can see his grandma sitting idly on her rocking chair.
"Grandma?" he calls out again and moves to her side in quick, anxious steps. He gasps at the sight.
Her skin is pale and dried up, her mouth is agape and her empty eye sockets stare back at him. From her left eye socket, two small antennas poke out. From her mouth, a centipede like creature slithers its way out.
John steps back in horror. That's when he hears scittering footsteps and clicking jaws behind him.
Little Peter wakes up with a gasp. He had another nightmare. He has been plagued by them ever since they moved house. The creaking and moaning, the dark corners and long hallways of the house have taken their toll on the seven-year old.
Suddenly, the window slams open and the howling wind shrieks into the room, carrying leaves and small pebbles on the old wooden floor. As quickly as it all happened, the window shuts closed again and an eerie silence hangs in the air. Then, the door to the room opens, at first slowly, but then it picks up speed and slams against the wall. Down the corridor another door slams open, then another and another.
Little Peter hides under his blanket, waiting for it to end. His breath is trembling and his heart beats hard against his chest. He musters up all the courage he can find and he jumps off his bed, running down the corridor and into his mother's room. The door is closed.
"Mommy!" Little Peter cries as he pushes the door open, its creaking echoing across the house. When Little Peter steps into the room, he stops in his tracks. "M-mommy?" he whimpers.
His mother stands on the bed facing away from Little Peter. Head hanging low and arms limp on her side. Everything is deathly still. Little Peter takes a step forward. His mother slowly turns her head, her neck cracking loudly and stares into Little Peter from over her shoulder, before her eyes roll back into her skull. Her jaw drops and her mouth hangs open. Little Peter screams and turns around to run, but the door slams shut. Before he can react, he feels cold nails digging deep in his shoulder.
I Shouldn't Have Left My Cat Alone
It is way past midnight as I am sitting in my living room, sipping hot chocolate and reading a good book. Suddenly, my cat meows restlessly from my bedroom. Worried, I put my book down and go see what is happening. I open the door to my room.
On my bed sits a pale man, with eyes wide open and a wild grin on his face. He is holding my cat, which struggles against his grip. The man stares at me with his unblinking, beady eyes. With a swift motion he snaps my cat's neck, which breaks with a loud crack.
His smile grows wider.
Written by MrDupin