Frightening

Frightening... The night is heavy, thick with dread, whispers slither through the air, calling voices long since dead. Frightening... A knock—too soft, too slow, too light, no one should be at your door, not at this ungodly night. Frightening... The mirror shifts, yet you stay still, a shadow moves that is not yours, a shape that bends against your will. Frightening... The floorboards creak—too close this time, your breath is caught, your pulse runs wild, yet silence lingers, stretched and vile. Frightening... A whisper brushes past your ear, a voice you’ve never known before, softly breathing, I am here.