The room grew colder.
Dani was holding her switchblade, spinning
around. She didn’t see anyone. She could swear it had gotten darker by a few
degrees of whatever measure of light there were.
“Hey,” she said, “I’m not afraid of whoever
you are. This is just a stupid warehouse.”
She thought it grew darker again. She looked
up and saw that clouds were moving in. Her breath stilled. The temperature
continued to drop.
Ok,
time to go, no reason to stay here, she thought. She took a step towards the
door. But if this place really is, like,
dangerous, it means Will was probably telling the truth. And there’s no way he
was telling the truth.
She turned and faced the desk. She put her
switchblade away. She placed her hands on the desk. It was cool to the touch.
Things grew darker again.
Nope
nope noooope,
she thought, You’re imagining things.
There’s probably some psychological term for what’s going on. I should ask mom
about it when I get home.
She heard something, a rustling, like leaves
across a road. It was unmistakably behind her.
There
has to be some syndrome of freaking yourself out, progressively, more and more, she thought.
A warm jet of air landed on the back of her
neck. Someone exhaling.
This
is completely ridiculous, she thought, I’ll
just turn… And…
She twisted on her feet looked behind her.
There was nothing there.
But she was aware of horror tropes. It was
when the character looked back that they’d actually see the monster. That was
the real danger.
Come
on, nothing could have gotten there in the three seconds I’ve turned around, she thought, I just need to reverse myself, and I’ll be
looking at a desk with nothing on it. Not a monster. Not a ghost or anything
either. Just a desk, alone, by itself, in a warehouse that keeps getting
colder. The light level diminished. And
darker.
She twisted back.
And.
There.
Was.
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