The darkness in my room was absolute, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was being watched. I had always been a little afraid of the dark, but tonight it felt like something was different. The air was thick and oppressive, and I could hear the sound of my own breathing echoing in the stillness.
I tried to tell myself that I was being ridiculous, that there was nothing to be afraid of. But the feeling persisted, and I found myself reaching for my phone, wanting to break the silence with some mindless scrolling.
As I reached for the phone on my nightstand, I noticed something strange in the shadows. It was a faint, flickering light, and it seemed to be getting closer. At first, I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks on me, but as the light grew brighter, I realized that it was something far more sinister.
I could feel my heart racing as the light approached my bed, illuminating the face of a figure that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. It was a woman, but there was something off about her, something that made my skin crawl.
She was wearing a long, flowing dress, and her hair hung in wild tangles around her face. But it was her eyes that really terrified me. They were dark and empty, like there was nothing behind them but an endless void.
I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I was paralyzed with fear, unable to move or even breathe. The woman just stood there, staring at me with those empty eyes, as the flickering light bathed us both in an eerie glow.
And then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone. The darkness rushed back in, and I was left alone with my thoughts.
I didn’t sleep at all that night. I lay in bed, shaking with fear, unable to shake the feeling that I was being watched. The next morning, I tried to tell myself that it was just a dream, that it couldn’t have been real.
But as the days went on, I started to notice other strange things happening around me. Objects would move without explanation, and I would catch glimpses of that woman out of the corner of my eye.
I tried to ignore it, to convince myself that it was just my imagination running wild. But as the incidents grew more frequent and more terrifying, I knew that something was seriously wrong.
And then, one night, she appeared again. This time, she was standing right next to my bed, her face mere inches from mine. I could feel her breath on my skin, and I knew that I was in mortal danger.
But then something strange happened. The woman reached out and touched my hand, and in that moment, I felt a surge of warmth wash over me. It was as if all the fear and terror that had been gripping me for so long suddenly melted away.
I looked into her eyes, and this time, they weren’t empty. They were filled with a depth of emotion that I couldn’t quite understand, a mix of sorrow and regret that seemed to weigh heavily on her.
As I reached out to touch her face, her features began to shift and contort in a grotesque manner. Her eyes became hollow and dark, and her skin turned a sickly shade of gray. I tried to pull away, but her grip on my hand was tight, unyielding.
I felt a chill run down my spine as her voice echoed through the darkness, a low, guttural sound that seemed to come from deep within her. She spoke of the things that lurked in the shadows, the beings that fed on fear and terror, the skin walkers that haunted the night.
In that moment, I realized that the warmth I had felt was not kindness or compassion, but something much darker. The woman in the darkness was not a benevolent spirit, but a malevolent force that fed on the fear of others.
I struggled to free myself from her grip, but it was no use. I was trapped in her embrace, at the mercy of her whims. And as the night wore on, I felt myself slipping deeper and deeper into a state of terror and despair.
The hours pass by, and I lose all sense of time. It feels as if I’ve been trapped in this cycle of fear forever, and I begin to wonder if I’ll ever escape.
But then, something unexpected happens. The woman’s grip on my hand loosens for a moment, and I seize the opportunity to pull away. I stumble backward, gasping for air, my heart racing.
I fumble in my pocket for my phone and quickly type out a message, hoping that someone will see it and come to my rescue. I hit the send button, and the message disappears into the ether.