The Night Walker

It was an ordinary night, or so it seemed. The city buzzed with its usual hum—cars honking, people laughing, the sound of footsteps echoing against the sidewalks. But for Sarah, the night was anything but ordinary. She was on her late-night walk, something she had been doing for years to clear her mind after long days at work.

Her apartment was tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, nestled between tall buildings that blocked most of the moonlight. The streets were empty at this hour, save for the occasional stray cat or distant figure walking home.

Sarah’s pace quickened when she felt the familiar unease creeping in. She glanced over her shoulder. There was no one behind her. Just shadows.

She had always been the type of person who could dismiss these feelings. It was just the quiet of the night, her mind playing tricks on her. But tonight, the air felt heavier. She looked ahead at the dark alley she was walking past. The streetlights flickered, casting an eerie glow over the pavement.

She paused.

Something moved in the alley.

A figure, tall and thin, stood motionless in the dark, watching her. Sarah’s heart pounded in her chest. She tried to convince herself it was nothing, just someone waiting for a cab or smoking a cigarette in the shadows.

But then, the figure stepped forward.

Sarah froze, her breath caught in her throat. The figure’s movement was unnervingly slow, deliberate. It didn’t make a sound as it emerged from the darkness, its long limbs stretching as if it were waking from a deep slumber.

Her instincts screamed at her to run, but she couldn’t. She was paralyzed, rooted to the spot.

The figure stepped closer, its face obscured by the shadows, but Sarah could feel its eyes on her, cold and unblinking. The streetlight flickered once more before going out completely, plunging the street into an unsettling darkness. Sarah’s heart raced as she took a shaky step backward.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice trembling.

The figure didn’t answer.

Instead, it took another slow step forward, and then another. Its feet barely made a sound as they connected with the pavement, but Sarah could hear the faintest whisper—a sound like dry leaves brushing against each other.

She turned to run, but her legs felt like lead. The alley seemed longer now, stretching out in front of her, and the figure was closer, much closer, though it hadn’t moved.

Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the figure. It stood there, still, as if waiting for something. For her.

Then, it spoke.

“You shouldn’t have come this way.”

Sarah’s blood ran cold. The voice was a low, rasping whisper that felt like it came from all directions at once.

“Who are you?” she asked again, the words barely leaving her mouth.

The figure finally moved, not stepping forward, but gliding. Its body seemed to shift unnaturally, the limbs stretching out in odd angles as it covered the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

Now, it was only a few feet away, its face still hidden in shadow, but Sarah could feel its presence, cold and suffocating. It was as if the air around her had thickened, and the world had gone completely silent. No cars, no people, not even the distant hum of the city.

She swallowed hard, her voice barely audible. “W-what do you want?”

The figure tilted its head, its shape changing as though it was studying her, trying to understand her. Then, it took a step closer—just one. And it was enough to break Sarah free from her paralysis. With a surge of adrenaline, she spun on her heel and bolted down the street, her heart hammering in her chest.

Her feet pounded the pavement as she ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps. But no matter how fast she ran, she could feel the presence behind her, lurking just beyond her reach. A sound, like a whispering wind, followed her every step. Her thoughts were scattered, panic clouding her mind. She couldn’t outrun it.

The street ahead appeared longer, the lights dimmer, and her apartment building seemed impossibly far away. Sarah glanced over her shoulder, but the figure was gone. It had vanished, like smoke in the air.

Relief flooded through her for a brief moment, but it was quickly replaced by confusion. Had it just been her imagination? She hadn’t seen anything like it before, and she couldn’t explain the terror she felt.

Still, she ran.

When she finally reached the building, she slammed the door shut behind her, locking it with trembling hands. She leaned against the door, catching her breath, trying to calm the pounding of her heart.

The silence in the apartment felt suffocating. She slowly sank to the floor, her mind racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

But then, from the other side of the door, she heard it—a faint tapping, soft at first, like the sound of fingers gently drumming against the wood.

“Sarah…”

Her blood froze. The voice was unmistakable. It was the same voice from the alley, and it was coming from behind the door.

She stood, her legs unsteady, as the tapping grew louder, more insistent. “Sarah… Open the door.”

The words were slow, deliberate. Each syllable dragging on like a shadow creeping across her mind.

The door handle turned. Slowly. Then, with a loud click, it stopped.

And just as Sarah was about to scream, a voice, not from the door, but from inside the room, whispered:

“You shouldn’t have come.”

Suddenly, the light above her flickered out. The air grew colder. And from the darkness in the corner of the room, something stepped forward. A tall, thin figure.

A figure with no face.

It was not the night walker from the alley. It was something worse.

And this time, it had found its way inside.