Lights on

It was already three in the morning, and I hadn't gone to bed yet. I'd watched a ton of horror movies, read countless pages of scary stories, and even tried the old Bloody Mary trick in the mirror. Stretching and yawning, I decided I'd had enough for today, went to my room, and went to bed.

After a while, I realized I couldn't fall asleep because fragments of the horror movies I'd watched kept surfacing from the depths of my mind. "Oh, shit," I thought, reaching out and flicking the switch. The soft light from the table lamp quickly helped me shake off the nightmares. A few minutes later, I was dozing under the warm blanket, closing my eyes and pushing the bad images from my mind.

Then, through my closed eyes, I noticed something blocking the lamplight, casting a shadow across my face. I blinked and started to turn toward the lamp, but then a cold, half-rotted hand grabbed my shoulder.

"It's good you turned on the light. It makes it easier to find you," I heard a hissing voice.