I was a typical teenager, always up for an adventure, and eager to make awesome memories

with my friends.

One weekend my friend Lucas invited me to spend the night at his house.

Little did I know that this seemingly innocent sleepover would turn into an absolute nightmare

that would haunt me for years, up to this very day.

This lived with his grandmother in an old, creaky house that was right out of the stuff

of nightmares.

The house was located on the edge of town.

This place had an eerie aura, with an overgrown garden, cracked windows, the works.

But I brushed it off because he was a good friend.

I was excited for a night of video games and junk food.

As the evening came, Lucas and I settled into his room, surrounded by video game posters

and gaming consoles.

Laughter filled the air as we embarked on virtual adventures and fights, and I was

blissfully unaware of the darkness that awaited me.

A few hours passed, and exhaustion eventually caught up with us.

We decided to call it a night, and Lucas turned over in his bed, as I settled into my sleeping

bag on the floor, eager to drift off into Dreamland.

The house grew quiet and still.

The night cast its shadow over the old walls through the window.

As I lay there, my eyelids growing heavier, a strange tapping sound broke the silence

completely.

...