A low howl started some time ago. A deep, guttural sound that was almost robotic. It had been getting closer for hours. I’ve had my face pressed against the windows, staring into the forest, but the darkness showed me nothing, as always. Yet, sometimes, I’m certain I can hear the soft rasp of breathing right under my windowsill.
But the howling stopped half an hour ago. And honestly, the silence is worse. It’s past 10 p.m. Charlie’s gone. He left for groceries hours ago... So why did I just hear his voice, mumbling something beyond the walls? A faint knock followed it. When I looked through the peephole, the porch was empty. His car still gone.
If he’s out there, why doesn't he just use his keys to get back in? Another knock, this one sharper. I spun around and my blood went cold. Every window was clouded over, as if the cabin itself was holding its breath. I can’t stay in here. There is something wrong. I need to check if he's out there. I’ll grab my coat, leave all the lights on. If I get lost in the dark outside, their glow will guide me back... I'll grab a flashlight from the kitchen cupboard, I've always hated the darkness. My hand finds the cold doorknob. Before I leave, I throw one last look over my shoulder.
And through the fogged glass of the kitchen window, I just saw something move. Something hiding.