It was an icy December evening when I started my usual night shift at the abandoned nursing home in the small town of Clintonville. The clock read 11:00 p.m. and the moon hung low in the sky. It was my job to patrol the empty hallways and make sure everything was going well, but this night was going to be anything but ordinary.
I carried my flashlight with me as the lighting in this old building was often unreliable. The creaking of the floorboards and the whispering of the wind through the windows created an eerie atmosphere. I was alone in this facility, except for the shadowy memories of times past.
As I walked down the hallway, I heard a soft, rhythmic knocking. My heart began to beat faster as I neared the source of the sound. It came from one of the rooms that served as a lounge for the residents. The door was ajar and the knocking grew louder.
I carefully pushed the door open and illuminated the room with my flashlight. An old rocking chair moved back and forth by itself as if someone was sitting in it. But there was no one to be seen. The room was empty except for an old radio sitting on the table.
The radio was on and a distorted, monotonous tune was playing from the speakers. It was as if a ghost was moving the rocking chair and playing the music. A shiver ran down my spine. I had always believed in rational explanations, but this experience shook my beliefs.
I turned off the radio and left the room, still confused by what I had seen. But that was just the beginning. As I continued to patrol the hallway, I heard faint footsteps behind me. I turned around, but there was no one there.
The footsteps grew louder and closer. I began to run, swinging the flashlight around wildly, hoping to catch a glimpse of my pursuer. But it was like someone was always one step ahead of me. The darkness seemed to come to life.
Finally, I reached the lobby of the nursing home and tripped over my own feet, falling to the ground. The footsteps stopped and the silence returned. I found myself on the floor, feeling like I was being watched.
With shaking hands, I sat up and tried to organize my thoughts. But then I realized the painful truth. My eyes fell on the license plate of the company vehicle that was parked in the driveway of the nursing home. It was the same license plate I had seen at the start of my shift.
I had been sure I was alone in the nursing home tonight, but now I realized I wasn’t. The one haunting me wasn’t a ghost or a supernatural entity - it was a real human.
At that moment I heard faint laughter from somewhere. The darkness played with my senses and I couldn’t pinpoint the threat. I rushed to the exit, opened the door and ran outside.
There, in the glow of the streetlights, I saw him. A man stood at the edge of the sidewalk and grinned evilly at me. It was the driver of the company vehicle who had been following me the whole time.
With one last laugh, he disappeared into the darkness, and all I could do was collapse, exhausted, onto the sidewalk. My horror that a living human being had stalked me in this way far exceeded any supernatural fears I had ever had.
The police were called and the man was caught. It turned out that he was a former employee of the nursing home and was obviously mentally disturbed. However, the horrors of that night have haunted me forever, and I wonder if reality can sometimes be as scary as the worst nightmares.