The Tale of Constance Hasting

I ran. My breath came in short gasps. I could hear them gaining on me. I don’t know where I’m running, my brain is so confused, and my legs are carrying me away from those things. I don’t know where they came from; all I know is that if they catch me . . . I will not survive.
****
I wake out of breath, my thoughts scattered and my chest rising and falling at a fast rate. My forest green eyes scan the dark room. I blink and try to control my breathing. Something clicks inside my head and I realize I am in my room.

I am not being chased by monsters; I am not running for my life. I am safe here inside my warm room; sitting on my bed surrounded by my blankets I’ve had since childhood. A sigh escapes my lips and I turn my head to the small alarm clock. The numbers are flashing some strange time. I frown mentally swearing to myself that I hat set it before coming to bed.

Somewhere inside my home I hear a strange noise. My eyes fly to my door and I stare at it; willing it to lock itself and never open. I have no such luck, the lock does not move and I remain where I am.

I have always had an over active imagination, and tonight—especially after that dream—it seems much worse. There is a loud bang followed by my brothers’ dog barking. I chew on my lower lip before pushing the covers off and slowly climbing out of bed.

I take in short and silent breaths and tip toe lightly to the door. I slowly turn the knob and pull it open an inch.

Standing in the shadows of the hallway; four feet from my door is a man. He has his back to me but only for a few fleeting seconds. As if he knew I was there; watching him. He slowly turned. His entire being was tall and cloaked in darkness. I felt a scream build and then catch in my throat. My eyes grow wide and my heart feels as if it will beat out of my chest.

Standing there was not a man at all. Whatever it was, it had two glowing red eyes.