#Halloween Story Time
The Witching Hour Visitor
It was nearly 3 a.m. on Halloween night, the hour when shadows grew darker and whispers floated in the wind. Alex was alone in his old house, struggling to fall asleep when he heard itβa light scratching at his bedroom window.
He brushed it off, telling himself it was just a branch. But the scratching grew louder, more insistent. Scritch, scritch, scritch.
Annoyed, he got up, expecting to see a stray tree limb scraping against the glass. But as he approached, he saw a figure outsideβa woman, her face pale and gaunt, staring at him with hollow eyes. She pressed her long, bony fingers against the glass, scratching with nails that looked as sharp as claws.
Alex stumbled back, heart pounding, but she kept her gaze locked on him, her mouth twisting into a wicked grin.
He raced to the door, locking it, breathing heavily, and forced himself to glance back at the window. She was gone. Relief washed over him.
But then, from inside the room, he heard the same scratching sound, closer, coming from the closet.
His breath hitched as he turned toward it, watching the door slowly creak open. Her hollow eyes peered out, and her voice came in a low, rasping whisper:
βFound you.β