The thing didn't leave. Mark could see it's shadow from under the door. Mark sat in his room for and hour now. Helpless. He was in shock and didn't even do anything the entire time. He was just listening to the things whispers. It didn't stop. It was sure persistent. Mark was now laying on the floor. Half covering his ears. But the whispers still got in his head.
"Kill yourself. L-L-Let me in. Open the door. You c-can't hide forever. O-Open the door. Kill yourself. Let me in. I-I-I-I know you're in there. Let me in. Let me in."
The creature repeated it self, and spoke with a creepy, glitchy, distorted voice. It continued to bang at the door. Mark wanted to speak, or yell at it. Tell it to go away. But he couldn't. He was too scared. Scared like a little 4 year old kid. Scared of what would happen if he did open the door. It was so tempting, like the monster's speaking was hypnotic.
"No.. NO! SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'M NOT OPENING DOOR! SO JUST GO AWAY! THERE'S NO POINT IN BEING HERE!"
Mark finally stuttered out a sentence, but it didn't do anything. In fact, the creature spoke louder, but still somehow whispered. Mark wiped away his tears with his sleeve.
He couldn't believe this was happening. He looked around for anything he could defend himself with if he needed to, which there was a high chance of because that fucker would break down the door at some point. Mark stumbled around the room, looking for something.. anything. Then he found it.
A handgun. The gun that his uncle Dave got him. He took Mark to a shooting range and everything. If only he was here to help him out right now. Everything would have been so much better. Mark checked the ammunition. He had a few bullets in the clip. Mark threw his head back against the wall. He was exhausted, plus he had a horrible headache and was still in a panic. It was getting dark outside. Time was ticking, and it was running out fast.
Mark started to feel sick. He had a horrible headache that wouldn't go away. And to make matters worse, he couldn't get out of his room to get any medicine or relief for it. The headache felt like a pierce through his skull, or a bat had been swung against his head at full force. It hurt like hell. Mark decided that he would lay down, maybe his head would feel better after a little rest. Mark lay with his hands at his sides. He stared up at the ceiling.
What am I going to do..? Mark sat and thought for a good 5 minutes. Soon, an idea finally came to his head. Call the police! It's that simple. These ideas didn't come to his head so quickly. And it was sort of disappointing to him. Mark sat up a bit too fast. His headache became even worse. He whined because of the pain, but was able to stand up slowly and walked to the phone on his desk. He desperately dialed in the number. He kept his balance on his desk. He put the phone up to his ear and listened to the ringing.
ringg.........ringg.........ringg........ They picked up.
"911, What's your emergency?" Mark was relieved, but it wan't over.
"T-there's a alternate inside my home.. I don't know what to do." Mark tried to sound calm, but he kept stuttering.
"H-h-hang up the phone, Mark! You're not leaving. So just hang u-up. There's no point in seeking help."
Mark stood silent.
"Ok. Can you tell me how it got in?"
"Uh.. m-my window, i think. I don't know."
"Can I get your name?"
"Mark. M-Mark Heathcliff."
"And the age?"
"I'm 17"
"Do you have any weapons to defend yourself with sir?"
"Um.. yes. I have a handgun, b-but that's it."
"Alright. I am sending available personnel to the address."
"Ok. Thank you tha-" The alternate banged on the door again, but much louder. Mark stared at the door, now ignoring whatever the officer was saying. The alternates whispers got louder. The officer soon went quiet. Mark looked at the phone.
"Hello?" The officer asked. Mark just stood there and didn't say a word. The officer went quiet again... they hung up. Mark dropped the phone. He didn't bother to out it back in it's place.
He crashed onto his bed, hoping the police would be there soon. He would just have to wait..
