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My name is Mike, I'm 28, and it has been a while since I moved from Vancouver to a small village near Winnipeg. I live alone in a small house on the edge of the forest. Above me, on a raised spot, lives an old woman, though I’ve never seen her myself. From what I've heard from others, her husband died years ago, and since then, she doesn’t leave the house—only her granddaughter visits, who avoids any questions about her grandmother.

Sometimes, when I walk by, I hear the radio playing from her house, emitting that crackling static that old radios make. Otherwise, there's nothing special about our village. Despite her age, we have a kind mayor who manages everything well. There's a nursery next to the town hall, and a pub across the street, and though everything has seen better days, the villagers often gather, chat, and drink—everyone except for the old woman living on the hill.

It all started on Friday, July 19th, when I began having nightmares. In the dream, I was lying in someone's yard, my hands tied to a tree. Above me stood a figure, unrecognizable, with a pale face and eyes covered in darkness. It stared at me with its dead eyes and shouted incomprehensible words. Its mouth was nothing but a black void—no teeth, no tongue, just tattered lips, with spit splattering on my legs. The figure then picked up a knife lying next to my right side, gripping it with both hands. It raised the knife and, with all its strength, plunged it into my chest. I woke up screaming, with immense pain in the same spot.

The day after this first horrific dream, I passed by the old woman's house again. I heard someone talking. It must have been her because when her granddaughter visits, she leaves her car outside the cabin. No one else could be in the house. I couldn’t hear another voice, but it felt like she was having a conversation with someone. Something like "I'll find you."

I was outside, so I couldn't hear much, but I was certain the person inside wasn’t just talking to herself. Maybe she was on the phone, though that seemed unlikely. Our village is far from modern, and you’d have to go five miles to get a phone signal. The only landline is at the town hall.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. I was just glad it was the weekend, and I continued my usual evening walk, something I do to unwind after a long day.

The nightmare continued to haunt me, unchanged, always ending with a knife in my chest. I didn’t know who to talk to about it. I have no friends in this village, and conversations with the locals are always about work.

On August 14th, I passed by the house again and saw her granddaughter. I approached and greeted her: "Hello, I’m Mike. May I ask who you are?"

"I'm Diana," she answered softly. She was about my age, with long black hair, bright blue eyes, a slender figure, and a stunning smile. She was the kind of girl I'd always dreamed of. "Can I help you with something?" she asked.

"I wanted to know about the person living in this house." Though I knew the answer, I didn't want to pry right away, knowing she was reserved when it came to her grandmother.

"My grandmother lives there. I don’t want to talk about her."

"Okay, I was just passing by recently and heard her talking. Does she live alone?" Diana replied, "Yes, she was probably just mourning my grandfather. She often has nightmares." Nightmares. That word sent chills down my spine. Could my dreams really be connected to this old woman? Should I tell her? No, I didn’t want to think about it. It had to be a coincidence. I said goodbye and went home.

That night, the nightmare returned. This time, I understood what the figure said: "Stay away." It repeated the phrase in a raspy voice, again and again, until it drove the knife into my chest. I woke up screaming in fear. I couldn’t go on like this. I had to tell someone.

The next morning, I decided to wait for Diana, hoping she’d stop by, so I could tell her about the dream. Even though I didn’t expect her to have an answer, I just needed to talk to someone. When I saw her, I felt a sense of calm, like a child curling up with their mother while she told them a bedtime story.

I woke up early and couldn’t fall back asleep. I sat in my living room, even though I live alone, there are three chairs around a round table, mostly for decoration.

I waited, looking out the window, hoping to spot her car. In the meantime, I turned on my gramophone and listened to some music. I inherited a record from my grandfather, Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." The gramophone wasn’t old—I bought it about a year ago—so the melody was beautifully clear. I became so absorbed in the music that I lost track of time.

Then, something interrupted me. In the background, over the music, I heard a loud static sound, the same sound that came from the old woman's radio. Suddenly, I saw two glowing lights in the window in front of me. I was so startled by the sound that it took me a moment to realize they were the headlights of a car—the car I'd been waiting for.

The car was just standing there, in front of my gate, and she was sitting inside, staring at me. Her dead expression terrified me, completely different from the smile she'd given me the day before. After about a minute of no movement, she gestured for me to follow her. I left the house and approached her car.

"Get in," she said dryly. My heart started pounding. I didn’t understand what was happening. Did she know I was waiting for her? Why had she turned from the bright, cheerful girl I’d met into this cold, lifeless figure? I decided to leave my questions for later and got into the car. Once I fastened my seatbelt, she rolled up the window and slowly, calmly drove away from my house.

"Why did you ask about my grandmother yesterday?" she asked suspiciously.

"I just... I just wanted to know who my neighbour is," I answered, my voice shaky. Her seriousness frightened me.

"Since I heard her talking, I’ve been having this nightmare..." I started to explain, but she abruptly hit the brakes.

"What nightmare?" she asked, terrified.

"Well… I'm sitting on the grass, and a figure stands above me and stabs me in the chest. It’s not easy to talk about, but I was hoping you might know something about it."

"Oh my God," she whispered. "We have to go to her." She quickly started driving again.

She turned left, taking the road leading to the old woman's house, where we stopped. We got out of the car, and I could hear some kind of noise coming from the house. It sounded like wood creaking or doors screeching, but very loudly, as if the house was about to collapse at any moment.

She told me to go inside with her. She grabbed the handle and slowly opened the door. The noise suddenly stopped. We entered. There was a hallway ahead, with old paintings in golden frames hanging on the walls. The hallway was lit by a row of candle holders attached to ledges beneath the paintings. The walls were covered in dark red paint, giving the place a castle-like atmosphere. At the end of the hallway, there were slightly open doors.

Before we reached them, there was a soft creak followed by a growl, like a wolf waiting to pounce on its prey. I was surprised Diana didn’t seem alarmed as she rushed in. Before us was a living room—if you could call it that. The chairs were thrown into corners, the table in the centre was split in two, and shards and torn paintings littered the floor.

As I looked around the room, my eyes stopped at a spot in the corner, where a single, undamaged chair stood. I nearly fainted. My head started pounding, my vision blurred, and a ringing filled my ears. There it sat. The creature from my dream. It was unbelievably accurate—the same dead eyes, the mouth without teeth, the bald, pale head.

When my senses returned, I realized it was staring directly at me. I couldn’t do anything but stand and stare back at this living nightmare. The creature suddenly stood up and ran toward me. Diana reacted immediately, running after it, shouting, "Grandma, don’t kill him! He didn’t do anything wrong."

I finally fainted, the last thing I heard was a scream, filled with sobs and fear.

I woke up somewhere in a shed in the backyard, sitting on a chair with my hands tied to the backrest. I looked ahead and saw Diana, tied to a tree. It was nearly dark, but I knew exactly what was happening. The person Diana called her grandmother emerged from the door separating the house from the terrace and walked toward the poor girl, whose eyes were filled with tears as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

I struggled to free myself from the ropes binding me to the chair, but they were tied too tightly. The person raised a knife, which lay beside Diana’s right side. I thought to rock the chair, hoping that if I fell, I could somehow break free. I had to help her. Even though I’d only known her for a day, I knew she was the woman I wanted to spend my life with. I couldn’t let this creature kill her.

Grandma raised the knife, and I managed to topple the chair. It fell apart, and I was now only bound to the backrest. Suddenly, there was a scream and a loud stabbing sound. It was too late. My heart felt like it shattered, and my pulse raced like a speeding train. I couldn’t let my emotions control me. I had to escape, or the monster that killed her granddaughter would kill me too.

I jumped up and saw that the creature was glaring at me with a furious growl. I gathered all my strength and, before the creature could reach me, I bolted toward a gap in the fence formed by two wooden posts bent into a "V" shape. I jumped through the gap and, with my heart pounding in my chest, ran down the hill to my house without looking back. In my haste, I managed to loosen the ropes and free myself.

I made it to my apartment, grabbed my most important documents and all the money I had saved, and got into my car. I decided to drive to the nearest city and stay in a hotel until I could find a new place to live. I didn’t want to tell the police—they’d either laugh at me or send me straight to a mental hospital.

As I was leaving the village, I saw the creature in my rearview mirror. I slammed on the brakes and turned around. There was no one there. I looked into the mirror again but saw nothing. Maybe it was just my imagination, I thought. After everything that had happened, I was exhausted, and my head still ached.

I reached the city and parked in front of a hotel. It wasn’t one of the best, but it would do for a few nights. At the reception desk sat a kind lady, and we agreed I would stay indefinitely. She gave me the keys to a room and showed me where the stairs were.

I went up to my temporary apartment, which was fully furnished—one bed with a nightstand, a bathroom, a fridge, and even a TV, though I wasn’t in the mood to watch it.

Exhausted, I decided to go to sleep and told myself I would look for a new home and job in the morning. I fell asleep. The nightmare returned. This time, the creature didn’t scream at me. It just whispered in a mocking voice, "I'll find you."



Written by Volmer
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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