The Hatted Man

I approach the door cautiously, wondering who the hell is on the other side knocking so vigorously. I didn’t have a peep hole to look out of, and I couldn’t tell from the window who was there. In New Lincoln, you didn’t have to worry about any burglars or crime.
Hesitating, I turn the door knob slowly, but then whip it open and step back.
I stare in shock at the figure before me. It was her.
“Ebony!” I scream and throw myself at her, embracing her in my tight grip. Her body is stiff, as if she’s been dead as long as people have pronounced her, and her hair is matted across her face. She smells like sweat and a basement, but I don’t care. I hold her and don’t let go, the tears streaming down my face so fast that I’m pretty sure there’s a puddle at my feet.
I push her away, but hold her arms tightly with my hands, “HOW THE HELL ARE YOU ALIVE?!” I scream.
But she doesn’t feel any welcoming what so ever… she just stares at me, terrified. Her eyes are almost as wide as mine and I can feel the fear reminiscing from her.
“Ebony?” I shout.
She nearly shoves me inside, shutting and locking the door. She turns back to me and I can feel my own fear. There are so many things running through my mind, like how the hell she was alive? I was at the wake. I saw her body… or what was left of it.
Her voice is barely above a whisper, “Brenna, we have to leave.”
I furrow my eyebrows, “What?” I couldn’t process anything. She was dead. She’s supposed to be dead…
“W- what? Why?” I stammer. My body shakes with adrenaline.
Suddenly, the lights go off. I can see her face in the moonlight from the patio door behind me. I had the most eerie feeling…
“It’s him.” She breaths.
“Who?”
“The hatted man.” She whispers, and it is the only sound I hear that sends chills throughout my body.
I turn around to look out the window. There he stood: a black figure, with a tall hat.
He was going to get us.