If you're one of the people who are inherently drawn to horror, then you're in real danger.

I don't know when it is exactly, I don't pretend to know everything that's going on,

and in fact I myself need to be drawn to more realistic, non-supernatural creepypastas.

About a year ago I was up at three in the morning, you know, but part of the night we were so deep into it

that it feels like it never ends.

All right, I was up, clicking around, looking for some good stories I hadn't run into before,

really, you had myself freaked out, you know, feeling, you like the feeling.

That's the problem.

Anyway, while I'm reading and I hear a pattern sound come from the kitchen,

I have a cat, so I just assumed it was her, but then that's my bed and my cat's there.

I'm freaking myself out for a while here, so I was naturally trembling with fear as I opened my bedroom door.

I lived alone, in a single bedroom apartment with just a bedroom, a kitchen living room and a bathroom.

My bedroom door opens up to the kitchen. It was pitch black, moonlight gleaming off the linoleum.

I stream my ears and I listened. I heard nothing.

I abominate myself for being such a coward, it was just random house noise, right?

It was just a mouse in the walls.

I had to turn around and head back to my room when I heard it again.

I saw something scatter across the linoleum in the kitchen, heading for the bathroom.

It was small, but it was definitely not a rat.

The limbs were way too long, the torso far too high off the ground, and the way it moved,

it moved quickly, but so awkwardly, in any other circumstance, I might have laughed at it.

As it was, I was scared, motionless.

...