Knocking on glass
I woke up to the sound of knocking, a hollow, rhythmic echo that sent shivers down my spine. The room was bathed in an eerie, dim light, as if the moon itself feared to cast its glow upon the scene. My eyes scanned the darkness, desperately seeking the source of the disturbance. At first, I dismissed it as nothing more than the wind playing tricks on my ears, rattling the windowpane. But then, to my horror, the knocking persisted, growing louder, more insistent.
