You weren’t quite sure what it was, if it was anything at all when you first saw it. But it was clear now, whatever it was, wasn’t friendly.

You first saw it about a week ago. Outside your bedroom window, standing in your driveway, staring through your bedroom window back at you. You swore it seemed familiar, but you didn’t know where to place it.

You’d shrugged it off at first, a trick of the light, the product of sleep deprivation. Something. Because whatever it was had to have a reasonable explanation…

But every night it got closer, you only ever saw it after midnight. Until one day, as soon as the clock hit midnight, and you knew, it was in the house.

It was stupid, but you grabbed your phone, and went downstairs to investigate, not hearing any sign of it.

Until you got to your living room, the front door was wide open, and standing in your entrance was it.

It was unnerving, you immediately wanted to run, to get away, but something about it kept you locked in place, it’s skin was pale, a gray blue tint, its eye’s that of a corpse. The same glazed over stare you’d seen at funeral, or in photos on the internet. Its left arm and left side of its face seemed to be rotting, flesh hanging off in ribbons. It had a wolfish grin on its face- a grin that immediately set off something in you.

You stared at it, you knew that face, partially… it was wrong. But you knew that face. It was your father. Logan Hayes. But something was wrong clearly, you spoke, trying to hide the fear in your voice, “dad..?”

It tilted its head, bones cracking and then lunged. It moved almost cartoonishly, like a puppet on strings, you scrambled out of the way, but it whipped around quickly, faster than your actual father ever could. You darted out of the front door, it quickly on your heels. A low screeching noise leaving its throat.