The television screen went pitch black, leaving Elias in total darkness. The only thing left was the text, glowing with a faint, sickly green light in the center of the void.
A chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning swept through the room. Elias froze. He looked around the cramped space—the bolted-down lamp, the bolted-down chair, the bolted-down bolted-downness of everything. subtitle 13 Eerie
And then, in the corner of the screen—just behind the digital version of his chair—a pale, elongated hand emerged from the shadows beneath the bed. The television screen went pitch black, leaving Elias
Elias felt the bedframe vibrate. A soft, wet scraping sound rose from the floorboards. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to jump, to scream. But his muscles were lead. He kept his eyes locked on the television, watching his own reflection on the screen slowly turn its head toward the edge of the mattress. Elias froze
Elias felt a breath, cold and smelling of damp earth, brush against the nape of his neck.
Elias bolted upright. He stared at the heavy oak door. The deadbolt was thrown, the chain was engaged. But as he watched, the brass chain began to slide, link by link, as if pulled by a slow, invisible hand. There was no sound of metal on metal. Only the silence of the room, heavy and suffocating.
He reached for the remote to toggle the settings, but the plastic felt freezing, almost wet. As his thumb hovered over the button, the text changed.