Category : Stories

Sub Category : Horror

I hate rainstorms. Not rain in general, but rainstorms. The kind that when the lightning flashes, it illuminates the room. The kind that when the thunder strikes, it sends you back to childhood, hiding under the blankets and promising yourself that you'll be okay. But you aren't sure of it. Because you saw it, the thing that you've been hiding from all your life, when the lightning flashed.
The creature snarled in the corner of the room, taking slow, creaky steps over to the bed. You are too afraid to peer past the covers, as you heard it loom over you. It watches the lump of blankets and pillows, knowing you are there. All you could do is hope you wake up in the morning.