It watches, in darkness it stalks its prey, some hapless victim soon to be no more. I met it once, saw it, felt terror fill my soul and chills rack my body. It still haunts me to this day, that manifestation of fear and evil.
I walk between the trees, hearing leaves crunch beneath my heavy tread. My heart beats steadily faster the further I progress into the woods. Tremors reach my hands as the light I hold begins to flicker. I see a lone cottage up ahead, a light dimly illuminating the windows.
Should I enter? Is it safe? Unsure, I slowly inch my way towards the house, looking for any sign of movement, listening intently for a sound, a call, a footstep, anything. The porch creaks as I step on its weakened boards. I stop. I hear a low whistling sound of wind blowing through the eaves. Was that… a footstep?
I push open the door and the fetid stench within reaches me. What is that ungodly smell? Something creaks deeper in the cottage; I feel the frost beginning to advance on my exposed skin. I see something move outside, a shadow against a dark background, but that can’t be right, can it?
Can it? Do I delve deeper into the house or do I flee back to the woods? As if in answer, the door slams shut behind me as the lights go out. I can’t see, that means it can’t see me, right? Or can it? I rush to a corner and hide behind a shelf. It can’t see me, right? Can it? I feel a presence within the room, as shivers run down my arms. Can it see me? Can it hear my ever beating heart? Can it? I hold my breath and peek out from my hiding spot… My heart stops. Written on the wall are three words that I can’t quite make out. Yes… I… Can…