Jake was in bed on his phone when he heard a loud noise from the kitchen
Jake lay in bed scrolling through his phone when he abruptly heard a loud noise from the kitchen. Heart racing, he sat up and strained to listen. Was it just the wind? An animal? No, it was something more intentional.
He slowly got out of bed, placing his phone silently on the nightstand. With every creak of the floorboard, his anxiety ratcheted up a notch. Passing through the dark hallway, he grabbed the baseball bat he kept for emergencies.
Reaching the kitchen door, he paused. The soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound now. Gathering his courage, Jake swung the door open, bat raised.
The room was empty, but the window was wide open. A chill breeze blew in, making the curtains dance. His heart sank. He knew he had locked that window before going to bed.
Then he saw it. A simple, black-cloaked figure standing in the corner, its face obscured by shadow. Jake's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out.
The figure moved in an almost ethereal way, gliding closer. Jake swung the bat instinctively, but it passed through the figure as if it were smoke.
āWho are you?ā Jake finally managed to croak out.
The figure did not respond with words. Instead, it pointed to the old diary on the kitchen tableāthe diary of Jakeās grandmother, who had mysteriously disappeared years ago.
With trembling hands, Jake opened the diary. Pages flipped by themselves, stopping at an entry dated exactly thirty years ago. The entry described a cloaked figure, breaking into the house and leaving only when the diary was opened.
As Jake read, he felt a strange sensation wash over him. It was as if whispers were filling the room, though he couldnāt understand the words. The figure began to recede into the shadows of the kitchen, leaving Jake standing paralyzed with fear and questions.
Just as the figure vanished, the kitchen lights flickered back to life, and the window slammed shut with a force that rattled the room. Jake blinked rapidly, thinking it had all been a hallucination. But the diary lay open on the table, confirming the surreal event.
Jake decided to delve deeper into the mystery, poring over every detail in the diary. Days turned into weeks as he researched his grandmother's disappearance, realizing she too had encountered this figure and vanished the next night.
Determined to avoid the same fate, Jake prepared meticulously. He shared his story with friends, installed security cameras, and avoided sleeping alone. But as the anniversary of the diary entry approached, Jake couldnāt shake the feeling of being watched.
The night came, and Jake stayed awake, bat in hand, staring at the kitchen window. Midnight struck and, once again, the window flew open. The cloaked figure reappeared, more tangible this time, its shadowy face now a mask of indifference.
Holding his ground, Jake demanded answers. The figure raised a translucent hand to its lips, as if signaling for silence, then pointed once more to the diary. Flipping through its pages with grim determination, Jake found the final entryāa plea for those who encounter the figure to leave the house immediately, never to return.
Without hesitation, Jake grabbed his essentials and fled. As he locked the door behind him, the house exhaled a sigh of eerie stillness. The diary fell shut on the kitchen table, and the figure dissolved into thin air.
In a nearby motel, Jake finally slept, the weight of uncertainty replaced by exhaustion. He had evaded the figure, but silently vowed to uncover the truth, hoping it would never darken his doorstep again.