Darkness swirled before him, in the way that it did when his eyelids were tightly shut. He could see nothing, feel nothing.
He could hear it though. Somewhere deep in the forest, far enough away that it hadn’t found him, yet.
If it were a windier day, the faint sounds could almost be mistaken for trees moving, branches creaking, or even small animals, moving across the ground to find a daily meal.
But it was a hot night. And still. Far too still.
Sweat dripped down the back of his neck. Despite the unbearable heat, chills ran from his spine, all the way down to his toes.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could make out some kind of structure, maybe thirty paces to his left.
It was an impossible choice.
Every horror film he had watched as a child almost screamed at him, Psycho-violin style, not to go inside. It would most certainly be a trap.
There would be no way out.
But the comfort of a door to hide behind, maybe even to lock, and most definitely to barricade, was too good to put down.
Besides, he couldn’t stay out here in the forest, in the middle of nowhere, without any way to navigate.
A faint howl from the creature helped him make up his mind.
The house it was.
Disclaimer: Yes, I realise this story was incredible cliché. Listening to horror soundtracks whilst writing is really not great for my creativity/originality.