Tap Tap Tap
John jerks awake and glares over to the same sight that has haunted him for the past year and half. The decrepit alarm clock that was passed down to him from his late mother is positioned three feet away from him on the bedside table; the time he was dreading to read is staring him in the face as if he was staring down the barrel of a forty-five, 3:33am. The same time for the last six months he has been awoken from a blissful sleep to bear witness to the reason he was able to find this luxury home in Colorado for an insanely low price. A price that would seem incredibly low for a terrible one-bedroom apartment in the middle of nowhere.
Tap Tap Tap
John knew what was coming, the tapping that flung him out of the safety of his own dreams into the crushing darkness of his master bedroom on the third level of his home. The tapping of light footsteps coming up his winding staircase that were near the top which led to the third story. For several nights now he would be woken up to footsteps that came one step closer with every passing day. When he first became aware of the tapping John believed that it was water leaking in his master bath that he was having problems with since he moved in, but as the nights progressed he could clear make out that it was not water and that something much worse.
Last night the footfalls fell one step shy of his darkened door that he kept closed. The two and quarter inch oak seemed to be his only protection from whatever this thing is that has been terrorizing him for the past few months now.
However, John knew that this child-like hope that the door would keep out this entity would not save him tonight.
As John lay there with the same pit in his stomach as a kid that is afraid to look under his bed for monsters, he heard it; a small chuckle. A chuckle that rose with every-
Tap Tap Tap
There! They fell right outside of his sanctuary on the cold hard wood floor that he walked without a care in the world for the past 14 years caring out mundane tasks that changed into the stage for his waking nightmare, which turned his floor into what seemed like the gas trail that led straight to his very soul in the room that felt even smaller now that the thing was only three steps away.
As he lay there his heart pumping his ears intruded upon by the sinister laughing that was near the pitch of a tornado siren hitting full blast. As quickly as the laughing started it stopped. And with that so did his breathing, sitting at the top of his bed propped up by his headboard he listened for any indication for where this creature could be he felt it.
A small breath on the back of his neck.