Vigilant under the covers, the radiant light of your device aluminates. Minutes fly like seconds when a yawn escapes. Glancing at the time you pale, it's - 2:48 - the most ghastly time, the Demon's Hour.

Questions arises, meanwhile your electronic automatically blacks out. You feel the caliginous, soundless and eerie atmosphere. Despising it and wanting reassurance, you unsuccessfully try to turn on your invalid device. Drenched with sweat, your heart pounds loudly and you find the need to get air. You gain your furiously, unsteady breath to tranquil.

Slipping your entertainment under your pillow, you solicitously get on your elbows quickly and flip your pillow for the fresher side. Doing so, you still catch a glimpse at your digital clock besides you.

Red digits glow in the empty void, 2:54. You sigh in dread and laying down on your backside. Taking your last deep breath, you use the taunting ticking of the clock to soothe you to sleep. Worry frets your mind, countless thoughts sauntered in.

Eyes bugged open, chewing your upper lip and tapping the sheets with your fingers, completely frustrated. Your pupils have long adjusted to the dark, so your eyes are darting around the room repeatedly, trying to identify dark shapes and watching the moonlight shadow dance around the walls.

Trying to find a relief, you turn your head to your bedside. Your heart misses at beat - 2:59 - again you feel your hair stands up with your goose bumps. Then the digits automatically turns.

A zipper being unzipped brings your pounding heart to a halt. Shaking, you hear the vague, heavy, agonizing footsteps thundering towards your door. Painfully slow, you see coruscate of the handle twisting open. You look sharply to the windowsill, the breeze shivers you slightly. You feel heavy breathing down your neck, while your ears strain to hear the dragging on the floor. You stifle a scream, every inch of your body screams in protest. A dark shadow looms over, hovering your paralysed body. Then you smell a foul, tantalizing breath, gulping you try to move. Your eyes wide in shock, a mouldy hand covers your mouth.

Grasping your sheets, you're drenched with sweat. With a heavy sigh you turn your head, 2:59, a zipper snaps your trance...

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