Day 6
Midnight
For the fifth night in a row, he thought he heard something creeping up the back stairs, but every time he got up to look, there was nothing there.
He was annoyed by it all, but everyone told him, old houses made weird noises, and he was just letting it get into his head.
He wasn’t convinced, but what other explanation could there be for the strange noises he was hearing?
He couldn’t shake the weird feeling in his stomach, but he’d lived in this house his whole life, so why would these things be happening now? He couldn’t have been that oblivious, or could he?
Now, he was more confused than anything, but he was determined to find out if his fears were real or imagined.
He waited until everyone was out of the house for the night, checked the batteries in the flashlight, and brewed a strong pot of coffee.
He was thick–sick with worry, but sick nonetheless. His excuse for missing out on the holiday revelry was legitimate, in his mind, at least.
He wanted to go to bed, but he perched himself on the back stairs with a mug of coffee in his hands and waited as the minutes ticked by.
As the hours passed he grew increasingly frustrated and started to doze.
Until the clock struck twelve…
A rush of cold air gusted up the stairs and loud scratching echoed against the walls.
The mug fell from his hands and smashed onto the floor.
His heart began to pound, and red eyes floated before him.
The scream of fear died in his throat as his body froze and evaporated without a trace.
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