Horror/Comedy

Walking past the cellar, and into the kitchen, I swiftly turn left and place my phone on the cold countertop. I rummaged through the cabinets. My stomach growls, demanding food. This is what I get for skipping dinner. Waking up at 2 fucking am, when I leave at 5. And it's a monday. Of all things a Monday; the worst day of the week. A groggy attitude will work wonders for the presentation today. 

A creek echoes from the cabinets, but slamming them shuts them up. I could have sworn there were cookies somewhere, but finding them was near impossible. Turning on lights would help. A lot. Most likely… probably... It's way too early to think, at all.   

I tumble around, finding the lights. And with a quick flick, my eyes are blinded. I try grabbing something, but the creaking cabinets are driving me insane. 

I finally get my bearings and latch onto the countertop’s corner. I tried to recover from the flashbang, but I couldn't be bothered with it.

Because something else was walking.

A slow but steady stomping sound extended from the basement. The steps  were accompanied with creaks. Whatever the fuck it was, it started breathing like a dog- a heavy panting from bound bones, moaning with resentment. 

I stared at the door knob, just hoping for anything else. I don't know what else, just anything else.

The stomping and creaks became louder and louder, until I heard them rattling in my ears. 

The basement’s door knob started to rattle as my damp pajamas clung onto me. My cold skin felt constricted as the rattling finally stopped. 

And a pale face emerged from the door. It was white, with long thin black hair, dangling from the narrow head. It had a gaping hole where a mouth would be and pitch black iris, which stared back at me for what felt like an eternity. And only after an eternity, did I notice it was holding my package of oatmeal cookies. It… no “she” held it tenderly and passed it to me with both of her hands. I finally noticed she was giving back what she stole. ‘Damn Mondays,’ I thought as I slowly reached out and grabbed the cookies. He released her grip, and slowly sunk back into the basement, with each step accompanied with the same creaking sounds. It was only after it was all quiet on the surface, did I finally start to study the package. 

But I never got the chance as hands gripped my ankles, yanking me down to the abyss, sending the package into the air, and cookies scattered across the floor. Ghosts of various sizes popped out of the woodwork, scavenging the cookies.