Wandering though the graveyard it felt like something was watching me. The old man that lived alone died last year. He was a creepy old man, always watching out his window though the battered old curtains that hung loosely off the brackets. You could always feel eyes on you every time you walked out the house. I always used to wonder what he would always be watching all day and all night. Though it felt like it was me he was always secretly watching. Now that he's dead I feel a weight lifted off of me, but as I visit my beloved mother. I once again feel that chill of cold air run down my spine, but most of all the eyes that used to burn holes though me, cold as ice. Was it the old man coming to watch me once more before moving on. Or will he always stay with me till death do me part. He will finally be able to watch me up close in the world of lost souls. Eyes that never leave me, now bound me.
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My One Horror
HorrorThis will be a collection of all of my short horror stories that I like to write ✨Currently in the process of editing stories
