Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark

The Thing In My Window

That thing has been there for almost a week. The figure in the window. It looks featureless, only skin on a human frame and it's pressing itself against the glass somehow. I don't know how it got there and I don't know how to get rid of it.
At first I thought it was a prank, a doll or mannequin that some jerks put there to scare me. But I realised as I walked out of my house to pull it away, it wasn't there. I shrugged it off, thinking that someone had hidden it while I was walking through the door. But I went back in and looked out that same window and it was looking in, staring at me. I walked around my house, yelling for whoever it was to come out but no one was there. The thing is hairless and naked and it didn't look like it actually had eyes or even a face at all. But its head is turned towards me when I enter the room. When I sit on my computer, I can feel its faceless hatred boring into my neck. But when I turn around, it's innocently turned in a different direction.
Finally on Thursday I tried to open the window but it's stuck. I think the thing's hands are keeping it down. But I got a good look at its face. Its eyes and mouth are behind the skin, pushing outward.
It stared at me, smiling.
Of course I screamed.
I pulled back a fist and smashed it into the glass, determined once and for all to get rid of the glaring monster. I know I'm strong enough. That glass should've cracked. But it didn't. It shuddered under my hand, but it didn't break. And that smile just got wider and wider and wider until I thought its head would break in half. It raised its own hand and bashed the window with its palm. It was mocking me. But I saw the faintest crack begin to appear where it had hit and I backed away. No way did I want that smile in the same room as me.
So I got a roll of duct tape, and I started covering the window. I couldn't look directly at it; I nearly shit my pants knowing it was watching me. But I couldn't help it; I took a quick glance at the skin covered face. A small peek.
It was angry.
That grin was now a gaping frown full of teeth. The skin had ripped away from its mouth and I could see down its throat. A menacing rumble started to fill the house and that hairline crack began to spread like splintering ice. I pulled down the duct tape. The rumble stopped, the split skin healed over and it began to smile again. Now it's night and the noise hadn't started again. There are no sounds, no rumble, and no crackling glass. Everything's quiet now. I can feel its claws gripping the back of my chair. I can feel its skin stretching as it smiles.
It's watching me type.