An eye at the keyhole.

School had finished early and I was strolling down the snow coated alleyway, one of those streets where no one ever goes. I use it as a shortcut to go to and from my school, but nobody else does, in fact I doubt that half the kids at my school even know it exists. So, anyway, the large dark cloud above me burst and it started pouring with rain. It was a windy day so the rain started coming down in sheets, saturating any and every patch of dry skin on my body.

Once I got back to my street, I sensed that something was askew. Maybe it was that the moment I stepped around the corner, the rain stopped and everything went eerily quiet. Maybe it was that the only other person on the street was following close behind me, mirroring my every move, almost like a shadow. I quickened my stride, aware that my pursuer was doing the same, I darted down a side street and started to run, with the figure gliding over the ground me and matching my pace. I began to sprint, the only thing I could hear was my heart thumping in my chest, threatening to explode. I skidded to a halt. I had reached a dead end.

I could feel my stalker breathing down my neck. I could hear the rustling of the sudden breeze on his midnight blue cloak. His hand closed around my shoulder, his yellowed nails digging into my flesh. He muttered an inaudible chant, then it all went black

I woke in a cramped cell that had been crudely carved into rock. The only light came from cracks in the thick wooden door that was locked from the outside. In the cell there was nothing more than myself and a rusted bucket, that it seemed was the toilet. I gazed around, my eyes still adjusting to my surroundings. Then My eyes fell once again on the door and I screamed. There was an eye at the keyhole.