Don't Close Your Eyes; and other short horror stories

Click

You take your hands shakily off the keyboard.

A rough, sketched, colorful ad pops up onto your computer. You had installed an app to prevent pop-ups, so you were confused on to how it happened.

In shaky words it spells out,

'website god will talk to you!'

Skeptical of the advertisement, you click the 'X' on the far right corner of the box.

Sighing in relief, you watch as it blinks away.

Then it shows back up.

You press the 'X' again, and it's sent away to replace again. Each time it gets bigger and bigger as you click the 'X' over and over.

Eventually you can't see the 'X' anymore.

Only the words 'click here' and 'website god will talk to you!'

You hesitantly reach for the power button.

Pressing it over and over again, it does nothing.

You yank your charger from the computer. It'll take awhile, but surely it will die eventually. You crank up the brightness, in hopes that it'll speed up the process.

But you look back to the screen and see that the laptop's still charging.

Your heart catches in your throat, sending a river of chills down your spine.

You reluctantly press the button telling you to 'click here', sending the ad to vanish.

Your screen is replaced with a white background, photos of God and Jesus roughly posted randomly over the screen.

One word appears on the bright screen.

'Call.'

You hesitantly press it after pressing the escape button and the power button multiple times.

It transfers to a black screen.

You can hear typing in your right ear.

Click. Click. Click. Click-click.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

It spells out your name in ornate letters, met with a message on the screen.

'I see you.'

The screen flashes for a brief moment, and you can see wide eyes and a grinning smile, washed in bright red color, before it disappears.

You look down to your keyboard in a start, watching in horror as the keys are pressed down with no hand to touch them, one by one. The clicking sound bouncing through the room. Each letter forming a bone-chilling message.

'Why won't you talk to me? I'm watching you.

I'm watching you.

Just type in 'bloody child' and you can talk to me.'

Feeling as if you have no other option, you type in those words.

You press the last letter, 'd'.

Your screen turns a bright fire-truck red, no words, no pictures.

Then your vision starts to turn red. It fades in, turning your sight one color. Red.

A child laughs behind you, though when you turn around they're not there.

In a small child's voice, it says, "now you can talk to me!"