Have you ever driven by the hill on Sixth Street? Well I have. And let me be the first to tell you, it’s terrifying. There’s this wooden entrance that makes sounds sometimes. You can barely make it out; however, I clocked it immediately from the distinct creak it makes. 

I’d like to say the fear subsided over time, but it’s the same fear that resided in me last night. As I was passing by, I heard it—the infamous creak that told me I knew exactly where I was, even though it was almost midnight. 

And then I saw it: a slimy, translucent ghoul of a creature. Its hollow, one-note eyes peering at me, I hit the accelerator, going way past the speed limit at this point, but I didn’t care, I needed to get out of there. When I got home, my girlfriend was already concerned.

“What’s the matter?” She inquired. “You look like you just saw a ghost!”

Little did she know, I think I just might’ve.

“Ah, it’s nothin’, I think I was just tired at the wheel while coming home.” 

“Okay, let me know if you need anything” she said, then yawning and slumping further into the recliner, disappearing into her blanket.

I nodded, but I was still wondering about whether I had been hallucinating. I tried to sleep; I couldn’t. Hours passed—I’d know, I counted. And then it happened again: I heard another creak. Leaping down the stairs silently, I quickly stepped into the entryway and saw a crack of the outside world as the door stood, slightly ajar. 

It sounds stupid, I know, but I was drawn outside. As the shadows followed me onto Sixth Street, I almost expected to see it waiting for me. The street was empty, and the silence was palpable. But then I heard it—the creak. This time not from the hill, but from behind me. Slowly, I turned around, my fear almost tangible because I knew I wasn’t crazy. I saw the creature from before, but I also saw my girlfriend. 

“Babe?” I called, my voice quivering. “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she stumbled closer, and I saw the same hollow eyes. The creature wasn’t just a creature, though; it had been my girlfriend. She—or it—let out a guttural creak. 

“You know she hasn’t been in control for a while, right?” it said, taunting me. 

The girl who I had loved, she no longer existed. 

“Why?” It was all I could manage, my voice breaking like reality.

Backing up, I was trying my best to keep focus. Then, the creature lunged, and I swung, and I ended up falling through the door on the hill. I fell for an eternity, breaking my fall on top of the dead body of my girlfriend. As I mourned the body of my girlfriend, I heard eight words: that was fun, now it’s your turn. And it wasn’t coming from the outside.