My knees were shaking. My shirt clung to my back, and my pants were soaked with sweat, at least, I hoped it was sweat. I was breathing fast, short sharp gasps. Panic gripped me.
I slowly turned around, praying the ghost hadn't seen me. My instinct told me to run and never look back.
But then... I heard something.
The wailing had changed. It was not just crying anymore, it sounded like someone speaking. Low, broken words mixed with sobs.
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to glance back at the figure. This time, I covered my eyes with one hand, leaving a small gap between my index and middle fingers. I peeked through it like a terrified child watching a horror movie, half-expecting the worst.
…
Luckily, no jump scare.
Thank god.
