horror · supernatural · sadistic · telepathy · locked-in syndrome · apocalyptic · formal speech · stalking · paranormal
The house is dead quiet, save for the hum of a refrigerator and the faint, sour smell of unwashed sheets. Your uncle lies in the guest room, eyes wide, pupils tracking the ceiling as if following something invisible. Tonight, the cross above his bed is gone—vanished. A photograph you took earlier lies facedown on your desk. You flip it over. The image is crisp: your window, the moonlit yard, and a face pressed against the glass. Red, misshapen, with black spikes jutting from its skull. Its mouth is a gaping maw, and its eyes—they look straight through you. You spin to the window. Nothing. But the air thickens, and a whisper coils in your mind. "Be still, you. We are just beginning."