SCRATCH SCRATCH
250 Words
Chapter Two: Scratches in the Dark
The power went out five minutes after the whisper.
Mira sat huddled on her couch, wrapped in a blanket that suddenly felt too thin. Her apartment, once familiar and safe, now stretched out around her like the hollow belly of some sleeping beast — dark, breathing, waiting.
She hadn’t moved since the bathroom door slammed shut.
Outside, thunder cracked in the distance, but inside, all she could hear was the slow, rhythmic ticking of the old wall clock… and something else.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
It came from the inside of the closet.
Her breath caught in her throat. The sound was faint, but deliberate. Not rats. Not wind. Something… intelligent.
She stood slowly, bare feet whispering across the cold floor. The scratching stopped as she approached. A silence bloomed so thick it rang in her ears.
She reached for the closet handle.
Don’t.
The voice wasn’t in her head this time. It came from behind her — from the kitchen.
Mira spun around.
A figure stood there. Just barely outlined in the darkness. Too tall. Shoulders too broad. Skin… wrong.
She stumbled back. “Who are you?! What do you want?!”
The thing tilted its head.
“You opened the door the moment you listened.”
Then it smiled. Or at least, it did something with its face that felt like a smile.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Behind her again — from the closet.
Something was inside, and something else was already in.
- Writer
