Short Thriller Stories

The Man in the Garden

I wake up in my friend's bedroom, in the middle of a sleepover. I look at the clock

‘2:30’ I read, and immediately look at my sleeping friend’s body. He’s breathing soundly, huffing

every few minutes. I lay down in my makeshift bed again, trying to fall asleep listening to the

pitter patter of rain outside the window.

I hear a sudden loud noise from outside the window. A thud, the snap of a branch maybe?

“Huh?” I speak to myself, as I crawl out of the pallet bed and to the window sill, and slowly pull.

myself up just enough to get to the blinds.

Before I lift up one of the blinds, I look at my friend again, still sleeping, I only roll my eyes and

look back at the blinds and slowly pull one up, hoping to see some kind of animal. I let my eyes

adjust to the pitch black outside, my eyes widened.

A man. Just standing there, in the neat and flowery garden, a hooded, 6 foot, man, stands there

still, hands to his side. I shake in fear and paranoia as I quickly look around my friends room,

and just as quickly look back.

“He’s gone…” I pant to myself.

I scrambled to get to my friend.

“Dude, dude, wake up!” I shake my friend from his slumber.

He jumps from my shakes “What the hell dude? What's wrong?”

“There was some guy outside!” I panic.

Without saying anything, my friend gets up and walks to the window, pulling up one of the

blinds, then looks back at me and chuckles.

“dude, nothing is there” he pauses and chuckles tiredly “chill out and go to sleep.”

This did not calm me down at all, I continue to let my mind wander in paranoia as I lay down yet

again and go to sleep.

Waking up the next morning, my friend and I head downstairs for breakfast. His parents start

talking to us as we sit down.

“Did either of you boys take a walk last night?” His father asks.