From the corner of my right eye, I can see something brushing swiftly past. Startled I topple over the wooden chair as I struggle to stand up. "Who's There!" I cry out, looking around frantically. In a far corner of the room dust shifts as if swept lightly from beneath the scurrying of feet. The chair lays tumbled on it’s side. Awkwardly I find myself lunging forward, my body creaking forward arms drooping in a zombie-like fashion. “Who’s there?” I cackle bellowing down towards the dust. I start laughing hysterically. Amusement is escaping my lips. The fear fills me with an unequivocal sense of horror and belonging, but I enjoy it like some sort of twisted eccentric.

RATE THIS BRANCH!