Remind me to update my interests.
One night, a baby-sitter was watching the neighbor’s kids, as she often did, but this time for money. She was given specific instruction to get the kids in bed by 9:00 PM. She did so, and afterwards went back downstairs to watch some television.
She flipped through the stations when something struck her fancy. It was one of those x-files type shows, all about haunted houses and graveyard encounters. She watched and became mystified at some of the “actual footage” shot at a local graveyard.
As she sat there, she decided that for the full effect, she would turn off the light, and continue watching the program in the dark, curled up underneath a warm blanket on the sofa. The program seemed to last forever, until finally they wrapped up with a spooky ending, claiming that all that have seen or heard of the graveyard ghost have either died by fire, or
were traumatized to death.
When the show was over, Donna was too frightened to get out from under her protective blanket to turn the lights on or check the children, for by now it was nearly 11:30 PM. It was dead silent, and Donna had developed a mild sweat from being curled so tight underneath the blanket. She decided that on the count of three, she would get up, run to the light switch and turn it on, and all would be well.
One. . . two. . . three! BAM!!!
Donna tripped and knocked the phone off the hook. What surprised her the most however, was that she did not hear a dial tone. Maybe she accidentally ripped the phone out of the wall socket. No. She could hear something. . .She grabbed the phone and put it up to her ear. She could hear breathing. What she heard next was something she would never forget. An ear piercing scream penetrated her head, and flowed all through her body, chilling her to the bone.
She jumped up and turned on the light, scared out of her mind. She decided to turn the TV back on and find a show that could calm her senses. She clicked on the TV, and started flipping through channels of static, finding nothing would come in clear. This did not amuse her. She went behind the TV to see if she could fix anything, when the phone rang.
“Hello?” All Donna could hear was the familiar sound of heavy breathing. Not waiting to hear that scream again, she immediately hung the phone up. What happened next frightened and surprised her. That piercing scream again. But wait, she hung up the phone. The scream came from upstairs. In her mind, she felt she should go upstairs to check on the kids. The sensible part of her said that the kids were in trouble, but it would be foolish to put herself in the same situation.
She crept to the kitchen, and found a knife. No, not the butter knife, she looked for another one, a steak knife. Yes, this was what she wanted. She walked to the foot of the stairs, and looked up. Total darkness. Should she turn on a light, or should she creep up in the dark, so as to be un-noticed? She decided that if it was dark, whoever or whatever was up there had the same sight disadvantage as she, and she would have a better chance of sneaking up on it.
She walked up the stairs slowly, skipping the third step, because she remembered that that one was the one that creaked. She made her way, knife in hand, to the top step, where she scanned the hallway for any shadows. She then went to the first door. She waited outside, clutching the knife in her sweaty fist, she listened for any sound. Nothing. Slowly and
silently, she opened the door.
She could see nothing. Donna walked to the center of the room and felt around for the chain that turned on the light. She pulled on it, and shrieked in horror. The children were all hanging from the ceiling by their necks, their guts spilling on the floor. She turned to run out, when she was blocked by a presence in the door. She felt her stomach get pieced by the razor sharp edge of her own knife. It slid easily through her abdomen, up to her rib cage. She dropped to her knee