Phil sat at the edge of his bed, clinging his bedsheets as he panted, occasionally whimpering out of fear as sweat ran down his forehead. He could feel it. For the 11th time he could feel his heart pounding as he knew. He knew that the time before wouldn’t be the last he saw of that thing. “I know you’re there..” Phil uttered in a shaky voice, gulping immediately after and trying to hide his fear. “Show yourself!” His fear had then been sided with anger as he stood up from his bed, turning towards his closer door. “I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Phil yelled at the top of his lungs now, putting strain on his throat.

There was a long moment of dead silence, but it was soon cut off by the closet door creaking open. As the creature’s bony, thin, black hand had crept out in between the crack of the door and the wall, it gently pushed the door open more. That was when Phil saw it. It’s disproportionately massive white head, complete with its unforgettably terrifying grin. He saw this grin, and he knew now that he’d just make a mistake. A mistake that would cost him his life.

The creature than took a booming step out of the closet, revealing its massive height as it smiled down at the poor, soon-to-be broken soul. It then opened its mouth, and out of it came a horrible, chilling voice, which uttered a word that Phil would hear echo in his head during his last moments…

**”Problem?”**