evil spirits in the house

"stay or run" "stay or run" "stay..." Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of dishes in the kitchen

You lived an ordinary life, you had no enemies, you didn’t get involved with anyone, you moved out from your parents’ place and lived peacefully, it seemed like nothing could happen, nothing.

You were in college, had a lot of friends, and one day you ran off to a friend's place for the night, only returning the next day. Your things were scattered, the dishes were broken, and on the table was a pitiful note: "I'll be back and I'll find you." You weren't afraid—what nonsense! You were thinking, but you were already thinking about how and where you'd run away, how you'd lock all the doors and windows, and how you'd lie in bed at night, being strangled. But still, you continued to live with the fear of being seen everywhere.

You didn't know how long you lived like this, in fear and torment before your door and windows. You told your parents, ran away from home to stay with loved ones, and simply didn't want to be home. The fear was so great that it turned into a phobia!

One day you came home, everything was clean, everything was in its place. For you, it was too clean, too suspicious. If nothing had happened during the night, then in the morning there would be hail for such a trifle! But still, it happened.

It's night, you're lying in bed, the silence weighs on your shoulders, your ears are ringing, your head hurts—what should you do? There's a knock on the door, three short but terrifying knocks. Three o'clock in the morning. Who's in there?! You don't react, followed by three more, and then another, until the noise behind the door goes silent. You exhale, thinking that's the end of it, that everything's okay, until there's a knock on your window... You live on the third floor, and getting into your room would have been physically impossible! The curtains were drawn, so you scurried under the bed, grabbing your phone, afraid it was a maniac or something worse.

A window shattered, someone's feet landed on the wooden floor. Over time, you got used to the darkness and saw terrifyingly long arms. Who was that? The question screamed in your head as the inhuman silhouette walked around your apartment. Without thinking twice, you called 911, and they answered.