User:EvasionMan

Creak. I’m wrenched out of my peaceful dream by a sound that cast an irrational fear into my mind. I rose slowly out of bed, first glancing around my quaint little room; it had been my dwelling for years now. I had it furnished with a wooden floor made from the old oak wood from my mother’s house, who has long been deceased. Another noised pierced the silence, this time a floor board groaned in protest as something heavy stepped over it. My heart rate increased, thumping in my chest. My heart beats were loud as gunshots to me, but anyone listening wouldn't have heard my inner screams, only eerie silence. My hand groped in the dark for a small handheld flashlight; the kind you buy on a key-chain. I flicked it on and immediately started towards my overhead light switch. Another squeak of wood from inside the house. I stopped dead in my tracks, not daring to move a muscle, in case what ever being lay in wait inside my house feels my vibrations. Whether or not it already felt my heart. I began walking again, slowly, until I reach my closet. I cautiously opened it, and shined the light in. I see nothing but wrinkled clothes and strewn boxes; the tell-tale signs of living alone as a male. I closed the door, and sighed in relief, then walked back to my bed. Another creak halted my steps, and I turned back around to face my door. The dimly lit outline haunted me, but I steeled myself and crept forward. It felt like the room shrunk, and I was at the door in a matter of three steps. Holding the miniature flashlight in my left hand, I turned the knob with my right and swung the mahogany door open. Staring into my own eyes, was an exact copy of me. Every detail, every wrinkle of skin on my old, weary face matched it’s face. Its entire figure replicated mine. Except one thing. In it’s right hand, it held not a flashlight, but a handgun.