Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26543178-20150628015542/@comment-26490050-20150628024746

I edited the story and pasted it below. I corrected grammar, tense and reworded some things to give it a better effect. Read it over.

It was a long night in my suburban neighborhood in Rialto, California. I was upstairs in my bedroom, on my computer browsing YouTube videos, eating some sunflower seeds, and enjoying the night. It was about 2:00AM. I had been doing this for about three or four hours. I got up to go to the bathroom; I had completely sucked down three Gatorade drinks. I exited my room, leaving the door open for some light. The ceiling light was on in there and illuminated my path to the bathroom. I walked directly across the hallway from my bedroom into the bathroom.

I flicked on the light switch and closed the door. After I was finished doing my business, I went to wash my hands. As I was in the middle of putting soap on my hand, the light suddenly shut off. The bathroom was pitch black. I tried turning it back on, but there was nothing. Each time I flicked the switch, the darkness remained. I decided to finish washing my hands in the dark, and opened the door to find out that my room was pitch black as well. I couldn't see anything at all.

I comically thought to myself, "This is strange, must be something wrong with the juice box again." I continued strolling through the dark upstairs, and navigated to the stairway, using only my hands to feel around me. I walked through the dark downstairs and eventually made my way into the living room. I got myself to the front door using only my hands and twisted the handle. It was open. I knew I had locked it; I always locked the door. I felt uneasy as I walked out to my porch. Something was wrong; I felt it. I eventually made my way to the power box, only to find out that all the switches were set to "Off". I immediately switched all of them back on. It took a few minutes for the lights to come back on, which meant my house was still pitch black.

I was feeling really bad about that. I didn't know what to do. I considered calling the police, but my phone was still on my desk in my room. I went back into my house and shut the door. I made sure to lock it this time. I navigated back up the stairs to my room. Something was wrong. The door had been shut. I started feeling really scared. I heard rumbling noises coming from my room. It felt like hours when I stood there too scared to even make a noise. Finally,  I built up enough courage to open the door. As my shaking hands twisted the knob and put barely enough force to creak the door, I was completely shocked.

There, standing in my room, was a dark figure. It stood about six feet tall and had an average body shape. It stood like something was wrong with its spine, slouching to the right, and made disgusting gargling sounds. It was standing directly in front of my window, staring at me. I stumbled back, completely shocked, and shut the door of my room and ran towards the stairway. I couldn't see a thing; the lights still hadn't turned on. I fell down the stairs and hit my ankle on the tile floor. I couldn't get back up, because the pain was unbearable. I probably broke it. I looked up only to see that the thing had been slowly advancing down the stairs. Every time its foot hit the steps, I flinched in horror. It sounded like it weighed a ton. I had no other option but to crawl away into the hallway that lead to the kitchen. Finally, the power came back. The back porch light had turned on! I reached up to the light switch and flicked it up. I now saw where I was going.

I kept crawling into the kitchen, and heard footsteps slowly advancing towards my direction. I didn't dare to look back; I didn't want to know what its face looked like. I eventually made it into the kitchen and reached up into the drawer that contained knives and silverware. I got the biggest knife I could find. Finally, I looked back to the thing, and never saw anything worse in my life. Its face was horrifyingly deformed, eyes out of their sockets. Its jaw was seemingly broken, and its teeth were so rotten they were turning green. It had a hole instead of a nose, and its head was severely misshapen. I had no other choice but to charge the thing, since I couldn't make it to the back slider in time before it eventually caught up. I lunged towards it and stabbed it right in the chest. It fell back into the hallway, breathing heavily. I knew I hadn't killed the thing yet, so I stuck the knife and lodged it into its disgusting head. Blood poured out, and the thing was freaking out. Finally, the breathing stopped. I sighed in great relief.

A few hours later, I managed to crawl up the stairs and get to my phone. I called the police immediately. Once they arrived, they told me that the thing chasing me was a wanted serial killer. He had escaped the mental hospital twenty years ago and hadn't been seen since. He killed his victims at late night, by cutting the power to their homes. He would then proceed to strangle the victim while they slept. After the incident, I moved out of Rialto and into an apartment, and hoped to never come across such a horrifying thing again. I don't even consider it human.