At my parents’ old house, my bedroom faced the woods. Every night around 3 a.m., my dog would wake up growling at the window. Nothing ever there — or so I thought.
One night, I decided to stay up. When the clock hit 3:03, the curtain moved… even though the window was closed. My dog started whining and hid under the bed.
I peeked through the glass and saw a pale face, pressed against the window from the outside — eyes wide open, mouth moving like it was trying to speak.
I screamed, and my dad ran in. He looked out — nothing. Just the woods.
The next morning, he found footprints under the window. Bare feet. But the ground was frozen solid.
Stake ID: zZero1
