The doorknob twisted slowly—so slowly it squeaked like someone was savoring the sound.
Katie pressed herself against the wall, her breath trapped in her chest.
Mark held the bat raised high, knuckles white.
The house was silent except for the faint tick… tick… tick of broken glass settling downstairs.
And then—
The knob stopped turning.
Whoever was on the other side whispered:
"I can hear you breathing."
Katie clamped both hands over her mouth.
Mark tightened his stance.
Please… please don't open the door…
Katie begged silently.
A long pause.
A soft exhale.
Then the shadow outside the door stepped away.
Floorboards creaked down the hallway.
"Katie…"
Footsteps moved toward the stairs again.
"I'll be back."
Mark didn't lower the bat until they heard the heavy steps descending out of earshot.
Katie's legs gave out and she sank to the floor. "Mark… who was that…? What do they want?"
Mark shook his head. "We need to stay quiet. Stay hidden. If they didn't find us yet, maybe they'll leave."
But neither of them believed that.
Not for a second.
---
Meantime — The Hospital
Arron drifted in and out of consciousness as doctors wheeled him through the ER doors. The bright lights overhead blurred into streaks, voices echoing like they were underwater.
"Compound fracture to left femur—"
"Pain response inconsistent—possible shock—"
"Call Ortho and Trauma—now—"
Courtney ran alongside the stretcher until a nurse blocked her path.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, we need space. We'll update you as soon as we can."
Courtney's whole body shook. "I need to be with him—please—he doesn't like hospitals, he gets scared—"
The nurse softened. "I know. I'm sorry. But right now, he needs surgery."
Courtney collapsed into a chair, her hands pressed to her stomach.
Her baby.
Arron's baby.
She whispered, "Please let him come out of this. Please."
Down the hall, Keith—still barely alive—was being rushed into a different trauma room. His pulse was faint, his breathing uneven.
"Blood pressure crashing."
"Get a crash cart."
"He's bleeding internally—prep for immediate surgery!"
Keith tried to speak, but the air left his lungs in shallow bursts.
His last conscious words before they sedated him:
"Katie… protect Katie… he's coming…"
He didn't say who.
And then his body went still as the anesthesia took him under.
---
Back at the House
The footsteps disappeared downstairs.
Mark whispered, "We have maybe a minute. We need to move. We can't stay in here if they come back."
Katie's voice trembled. "Move where?!"
Mark pointed toward the crawl space access inside Courtney's closet. "There. It leads to the far side of the house. We'll circle around and get outside."
Katie hesitated. "What if they hear us?"
"We don't have a choice."
They shoved the dresser away just enough to slip inside the closet. Mark pulled the closet door shut behind them, plunging them into darkness.
Katie clung to his arm as he reached for the crawl space latch.
But then—
Downstairs, something new began:
Whistling.
A slow, eerie tune drifting up the staircase.
Katie's blood ran cold.
"I know that sound…"
Mark froze. "What is it?"
Katie's eyes flooded with tears.
"My stepdad… John… he used to whistle that song when he was drunk…"
Mark grabbed her shoulders gently. "Katie… John is dead."
She nodded rapidly. "I know. I know. But—But someone else knows his song—someone who's been around him. Someone from the club. Someone who knew where the house key was hidden—"
Mark swallowed. "Then we need to move. Now."
He yanked the crawl space open.
A cold draft swept out, carrying dust and the smell of insulation.
Katie crawled in first, shaking so hard she could barely move. Mark followed, pulling the hatch closed behind them.
The whistling grew louder.
Then footsteps started up the stairs again.
Katie whispered, "Please move faster… please…"
They crawled toward the far vent—but before they reached it—
A boot stomped directly above them.
Katie covered her mouth to silence a scream.
Mark froze completely.
The shadow moved slowly from one end of the crawl space ceiling to the other—listening.
Waiting.
Then—
A heavy metal scrape.
Katie recognized it instantly.
The baseball bat.
He found it.
Mark mouthed, run.
They crawled faster, hearts pounding, hands and knees scraping against jagged wood.
Behind them, the vent they had just passed shook violently.
Metal groaned.
They didn't dare look back.
---
Hospital — Arron's Room
Courtney sat in the hallway, hands shaking so violently she could barely dial her phone.
The doctor stepped out and knelt beside her.
"Mrs. Jones—"
"W-w-we're not married," she said weakly.
The doctor nodded. "Arron made it out of surgery. He's stable. He's in recovery now, but he's asking for you."
Courtney's breath collapsed out of her chest. "Can I see him?"
"Yes. But he's weak."
Courtney rushed in.
Arron lay connected to wires and monitors, eyes half-open.
He whispered, "Courtney… Katie… is she safe?"
Courtney nodded, stroking his hair. "Steve's with her. She's safe."
Arron's hand trembled as it reached for hers. "No… no she's not… They're not done… They're—"
His words cut off as a monitor beeped sharply.
Courtney pressed the nurse button. "Something's wrong!"
Arron's heartbeat spiked in panic.
He forced out one last breathy warning:
"He's coming… for all of us…"
---
Courtney's House — Crawl Space Exit
Katie and Mark reached the far vent. Mark pushed it with his shoulder—nothing.
"It's stuck," he whispered.
Katie grabbed it too. "Push harder!"
They shoved together, metal whining—
Footsteps thundered toward them from the other end of the crawl space.
The whistling returned.
Closer.
Katie sobbed. "Mark—he's coming—"
Mark pushed so hard his shoulder popped. The vent finally gave way, falling into the bushes outside.
"Go!" he whispered.
Katie slid out first, landing in the cold dirt. Mark was right behind her—
Just as he crawled out, a voice hissed from inside the crawl space behind them:
"You can run, kids… but I always catch what I hunt."
Mark grabbed Katie's hand.
"Run."
And they sprinted into the night.
The shadow crawled out of the vent after them