Tales of Terror : A Haunting Anthology of Creepypasta

The Rake

The power flickered, plunging my childhood bedroom into an inky blackness. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the familiar shapes of furniture to reappear. It wasn't a storm; the power cuts happened every few nights in our old, isolated farmhouse. But tonight, a prickling unease crawled up my spine.

A scratching sound, faint at first, grew louder. It wasn't the usual nighttime symphony of crickets. This was a deliberate, rhythmic scrape against the wood of my windowsill. My breath hitched. We lived miles from the nearest neighbors, and the windows were always locked tight.

Moonlight, pale and accusatory, sliced through a crack in the curtains. I held my breath, listening. The scratching stopped. Then, a low, guttural whine emanated from outside. It wasn't human, but something just as unsettling, a sound that sent shivers down my teenage spine.

Panic clawed at me. I fumbled for my phone, the screen a beacon in the darkness. As it lit up, I cast a terrified glance at the window. Two glowing red pinpricks stared back. They weren't eyes – they were too elongated, too devoid of any emotion. A primal scream lodged itself in my throat.

The whine escalated, turning into a high-pitched screech that scraped against my sanity. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Suddenly, a sickening crack echoed through the room. The windowpane shattered, spraying shards of glass like deadly shrapnel.

A horrifying figure lunged through the opening. It was vaguely humanoid, but impossibly thin, with long, emaciated limbs. Its skin, if you could call it that, was a sickly pale, stretched taut over its skeletal frame. But the worst part was its face. It had no nose, just a gaping maw lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth.

I scrambled back, knocking over a chair in my haste. It let out a bloodcurdling shriek, a sound that promised a fate worse than death. I was frozen, paralyzed by terror. The creature, with surprising agility, slinked across the floor, its long, clawed fingers twitching with anticipation.

Just as it lunged for me, a sound like thunder ripped through the night. The creature whipped its head towards the window, its red eyes widening in surprise. A blinding flash of light filled the room, momentarily banishing the darkness.

In that split second, I saw it. Behind the creature, hovering in the night sky, was a colossal figure, winged and shadowy. Its features were indistinct, but its glowing red eyes burned with an intensity that rivaled the creature before me.

The monstrous figure on the floor screeched again, this time a sound laced with fear. It scrabbled backwards, its long limbs failing to propel it away fast enough. The winged figure swooped down, a dark silhouette against the moon.

Then, the power flickered back on, bathing the room in harsh, white light. Blinking, I looked around, heart still pounding a frantic tattoo. The creature, the winged figure, all gone. Only the shattered window remained as a testament to the nightmare I'd just experienced.

But as I surveyed the wreckage, a cold dread washed over me. On the shattered pane, etched in a viscous black substance, were three words: "He sent his regards."