Don't look back. If you feel he's watching, run. Never look under the bed; that's when they get you. Just survive. Don't trust anyone. Not even this letter. Stay safe, and stay awake when the night strikes at 3 AM. Love, Mom
As I read the sloppy handwriting of my mother, almost as if she was in a hurry, I glance at the digital clock in the poorly lit basement of the abandoned house. It read 3:33 AM. An uneasy feeling settled inside my bones. The creaking of the door at the top of the stairs to the basement reverberated through the room.
I call out.
No reply.
A sudden screeching sound, like nails on a chalk board, filters my ears. I cover them in an attempt to stop the noise.
I run up the stairs and out the door to one of the rooms. I crawl under the bed to hide.
I hear feet dragging slowly, too slowly. I peek to the door when long, black fingers creepily grab the door, one by one latching onto it. It disappeared as quickly as it came. I blink thinking I'm losing my mind.
The creak of the old wooden floorboards interrupt my thoughts. Then...
Silence.
The only noise is coming from my rapid pants of breath; it quivers with the shake of my lips.
A laugh is the only sound I hear as I'm being dragged from under the bed while my own screams are the only thing left of me.