Noah Raven woke with a start, a faint creak pulling him from sleep. At first, he thought it might be Ellie, his six-year-old sister, sneaking to the kitchen for water or searching for her stuffed bear after another bad dream. He sat up, blinking into the darkness, waiting to hear her soft footsteps.

Instead, he heard a low thud—deliberate, heavy, and from downstairs.

A strange chill crept over him, his skin prickling. Grabbing his phone, he turned on the flashlight and crept out of bed. The hallway was silent, and Ellie’s door was slightly ajar, but there was no sign of her. His heart quickened.

The stairs creaked under his weight as he made his way down, the cold air biting his skin. The faint light from his phone illuminated dark streaks on the carpet. Noah froze, his breath catching in his throat. He followed the stains to the living room, where his worst nightmare unfolded.

The flashlight trembled in his hand as he saw his father first, slumped in his favorite chair, his work shirt soaked in crimson. His mother lay sprawled on the couch, her robe torn and stained.

“No…” he whispered, stepping back, his mind refusing to accept what he was seeing.

Then he saw Ellie. She was curled up on the floor in her pink pajamas, her small body unnaturally still but she’s breathing.

Noah’s knees nearly buckled. His pulse roared in his ears, and the phone slipped in his sweaty hand.

The sound of a creak snapped him out of his daze. It came from the stairs behind him.

Noah spun around, the flashlight catching a fleeting shadow disappearing down the hallway. Someone was still here.

His instincts took over. He turned and bolted, his phone clattering to the ground as he ran out the back door. The freezing night air stung his skin, but he didn’t stop, his heart pounding in his chest as he sprinted barefoot to the one place he felt safe: your house.