Chapter 4
1269 Words
Chapter 4: The Stranger in the Snow
Erica’s POV
Tap.
My heart stops. I don’t move. I can’t.
Lily shifts in her sleep, her little hand curling into my sweater. I press her closer, my pulse pounding so hard it hurts. My eyes are locked on the window. The faint glow of the porch light catches on the glass, but there’s nothing there.
Nothing but darkness.
Tap.
It’s sharper this time, more deliberate. My breath hitches. I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. Don’t move, Erica. Don’t look. Don’t—
Tap-tap.
I squeeze my eyes shut. My fingers dig into Lily’s back, holding her like she’s the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.
I feel it. I feel it. Something is out there. Not a wolf. Not a dog. Something worse.
Another vibration. My phone. I nearly jump out of my skin. My heart is still hammering as I unlock it with shaky fingers. It’s a text from Jake.
Jake: Almost home. 5 min. U good?
No. No, I am not good. I glance at the window again, every muscle in my body tense. Slowly, I type back.
Me: Something’s outside.
The typing dots appear instantly. Jake’s reply comes fast.
Jake: Lock everything. Stay put. I’m coming.
Jake: Don’t. Open. The. Door.
I nod to myself, already moving. Slowly, carefully, I slide out of bed. My eyes stay on the window like it’s a live wire about to spark. I grab Lily under her arms and lift her, her warm, sleepy body slumping against me. She makes a soft sound of protest but doesn’t wake.
"Shh, baby. Shh," I whisper, voice shaking. "Just stay asleep, okay?"
I move toward the door, step by step, my breathing shallow. Every creak of the floorboards sounds like a gunshot. My eyes dart back to the window, expecting something—anything—to appear.
Nothing does. But I know it’s there.
I step out into the hall, the cold air prickling my skin. The house is too quiet. Too still. Like it’s holding its breath with me. I hurry toward my parents’ room. I tap on the door with my foot, too afraid to knock too loudly.
“Mom?” My voice cracks. “Dad?”
Nothing. I tap harder.
“Mom, wake up!”
Footsteps. I hear them on the other side, slow but steady. Relief floods me as the door swings open. My mom’s face is groggy, her eyes squinting against the hallway light.
“Erica? What—” Her eyes shift to Lily in my arms, then to my face. Her brows knit together. “What happened?”
“There’s something outside,” I whisper harshly. “Something’s tapping on my window.”
Her face changes. All the sleep drains from her expression, replaced with sharp, clear-eyed alertness.
“Put Lily down,” she says, her voice calm but firm. “Put her on my bed.”
I nod, stepping inside. Dad is still snoring softly under the blankets, completely unaware. I lay Lily down gently, pulling the blankets up to her chin. She barely stirs. My fingers brush over her hair one last time before I step back.
Mom’s already moving. She grabs her phone off the nightstand, her lips pressed in a tight line. “I’m calling your brother.”
“I already did,” I whisper, hugging myself. “He’s on his way.”
She glances at me, her eyes sharp. “Did you lock the doors?”
My heart sinks. I didn’t.
I spin around, sprinting down the hall toward the front door. My bare feet slap against the wood, my breath coming fast and shallow. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I reach the front door, grabbing the deadbolt and twisting it until it clicks. Then I check it again. Twist it harder. Locked. I move to the back door, hands shaking so bad I nearly drop the latch. Click. Locked.
I lean my forehead against the cool wood, trying to steady my breathing. Calm down, Erica. Calm down.
That’s when I hear it.
Breathing.
Slow. Deep. Right on the other side of the door.
I go still. My breath catches in my throat. I press my ear to the door, heart pounding so hard I’m sure it’s echoing outside.
Shh-hhh. Hh-haaa.
I bite down on a scream. My hands press flat against the wood like I can push it back, like I can keep whatever is outside from coming in.
The breathing stops.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then, slowly, the doorknob rattles.
Once.
Twice.
I slap a hand over my mouth, backing away from the door. My whole body is shaking so hard it’s a miracle I’m still standing.
The knob rattles harder. It twists slowly, like someone’s testing it.
“Jake,” I whisper to myself. “Hurry. Please hurry.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I yank it out so fast I nearly drop it. Jake’s name flashes on the screen. I answer immediately.
“Jake!” I hiss, glancing back at the door. “It’s at the back door. It’s trying to get in.”
“Don’t open it,” he says, his voice tight and serious. I hear the hum of his truck engine in the background. “I’m two minutes out, Erica. Stay away from the door.”
“It’s twisting the knob, Jake.” My voice cracks, tears stinging my eyes. “It’s right there.”
“Listen to me,” he says, his voice steady but urgent. “Stay calm. It can’t get in if you locked it. You locked it, right?”
“Yes,” I whisper, glancing at the latch. “Yes, I did.”
“Good. Then it’s just trying to scare you.”
The doorknob stops twisting. Silence. My breath is loud in my ears, but I don’t move. I stare at the door like it might explode.
Jake's voice cuts through the quiet. “Erica, I’m pulling in now. Don’t move.”
Headlights sweep across the living room window. Relief crashes into me so hard I almost collapse. I run to the front window, pressing my hands to the glass. Jake’s truck rolls into the driveway, his brights cutting through the foggy glow of snowfall.
He’s here.
But something moves.
My eyes catch it—just for a second—a figure darting from the back of the house into the woods. Fast. Too fast to be human.
“Jake!” I shout, heart hammering. “It’s in the woods! It ran into the woods!”
He jumps out of the truck, his eyes sharp as he follows my gaze. “Stay inside!” he shouts back, pulling something from his truck. I don’t see what it is, but he moves with purpose.
I watch as he stalks toward the edge of the woods, shoulders tense, his gaze locked on something I can’t see. My phone buzzes. A message.
Lucas: You awake?
I frown, my heart still racing. Me: Yes. Why?
His reply is instant.
Lucas: Stay inside. Don’t let anyone in. No matter what.
My blood runs cold. I turn away from the window, my breath fogging up the glass. How does he know? How does he always know?
I glance at the door one last time, then back at Lily, safe and warm in bed.
Jake’s outside. Lucas is… somewhere. The figure in the woods is gone. But I know, deep down, that it’s not over.
The footsteps. The tapping. The growl.
They’ll be back.
And next time, I’m not sure the door will hold.
- Writer
