Short Horror Stories

The Window

I awoke this Monday morning just like any other. My thoughts were of nothing in particular as I sat up from my bed and drowsily walked over to my dresser. I glanced out the window, as I always do, and saw the figure I have nicknamed "The Window-Watcher" poised outside my window, as I always do. Of course, to any other person, this would seem unnatural. But I'm used to it by now. When the window-watcher first started to appear, I went to my parents who dismissed it as childish ramblings. This has been going on for several months now, and the window-watcher has shown no signs of aggression, so I choose to ignore it. Perhaps it will go away.

I resume my morning routine, getting ready for school and making sure my homework is in order. Meanwhile, the window-watcher is still in its post, and I swear I make out eyes tracking my movements. Dismissing it once again, I continue downstairs where I eat breakfast and depart for school.

I return around 3:00 and go upstairs for a head start on homework. My desk is in the corner of my room near the right. It's a warm natural-wood color and has storage for anything I'd need for school. I settle down and turn on some classical music while losing myself in whatever assignments I have for the night. All the while, the figure outside the window is always watching.

I hear a muffled yell from downstairs and assume it's dinner. I check the clock on my phone and see that it's already 6:00. As I traverse down the stairs and into the kitchen, my thoughts drift to the figure outside my window again. But as soon as it enters my consciousness, I shut down the speculations of why it's there and return my attention to the present.

I finish eating and haphazardly drop my plate into the dishwasher and go back upstairs. Another glance at my window confirms the window-watcher is back. I sit on my bed and start getting lost in a book before hearing a tap from outside my window. I turn, and see the window-watcher tapping a hand against the glass. I jump back. It's never moved before. As its taps turn to slams in a wild attempt to break open the glass, I stagger back and try to find something to fight with if it gets in. A crash erupts into my room as it jumps in, the glint of a dagger in its shadowy hand. The last thing I see before pain and darkness engulf me is the back wall of my bedroom and the window-watcher's sinister expression.

***

The girl that was being stalked by the so-called "window-watcher" died that very night. The figure outside her window impersonated the girl from then on, without the knowledge of anyone else. That is, until another window-watcher came along, destined to steal the lives of the innocent for a second chance at their miserable being.