It was too quiet in Paige Hanson's house.

Even with the TV on loud, Paige could hear every little sound. The ticking of the clock, the rhythmic breathing of her cat Tilly, who was curled up on her feet, and even the sound of the refrigerator humming. Uneasily, she turned the volume up louder, and the slasher film music reached an ear-shattering crescendo.

She couldn't put her finger on the reason why she felt so edgy. Her day had been relatively normal. She pulled her blankets tighter around her shoulders, wishing that her mother had stayed home instead of catching the red-eye to New York. Paige was seventeen, and liked to think of herself as independent, but that didn't mean she didn't miss her flighty mother every now and then.

Her TV show ended with the sounds of screams and the splattering of blood, and Paige switched off the set. She turned off all the lights in the house and checked that all the doors were locked before making her way to her bedroom and settling into bed. She yawned tiredly and pulled the comforter up to her chin, being careful to not kick Tilly, who had followed her in and was snuggled in between the folds of the sky blue cover. She closed her eyes, and had almost drifted off to sleep when something startled her.

The noise was almost imperceptible, but Paige was certain she heard it. She opened her eyes, but didn't move. Tilly purred contentedly and nudged her head against Paige's ankle. Paige stayed frozen for a few more seconds, and then closed her eyes.

Creak.

Paige's heart thumped in her chest. She knew she was overreacting, that her imagination was merely imitating all of the scary movies she insisted on watching, but she couldn't help it. She sighed and told herself to calm down. Stop it, Paige, she mentally chastised. This is what you get for watching that stupid slasher film. That sound can't be a door opening. You've locked all the doors, you've locked all of the windows, just go to sleep.

Breathing out slowly, she turned onto her side and tried to fall asleep, but it felt useless. She was wide-awake and alert now. Was it her imagination running away with her again, or were the shadows on her walls moving? Had she forgotten to lock the deadbolts? Was her closet door creaking open?

Her mouth suddenly went dry, and Paige felt her heart constrict in her chest. She wasn't imagining it. Her closet door was slowly swinging open, and the dark shadow standing behind it darted out and stood at the foot of her bed. Tilly jumped up, meowing and hissing.

Speechless with terror, Paige squeezed her eyes shut, and felt tears springing. If she ignored it, it would go away. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

But reality could not argue with that knife. The shining blade glittered in the pale moonlight that streamed through the window, and forgetting her temporary paralysis, Paige sat straight up in bed. "Please!" she choked out. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The figure didn't answer, and simply cocked their head to one side and trotted forward, raising the knife. The moon threw their face into light.

Paige gasped. "What are you doing? Please! Please don't! I'm begging you!"

The knife swung down anyway.