The Shadow Man

The Shadow Man

It was a rainy Tuesday night when I first saw him. I had just moved into a small, rented apartment on the outskirts of town. The place was affordable, and for someone like me who had just started a new job and needed to get out of my old place, it seemed like the perfect choice.

At first, everything felt normal—too normal, in fact. The creaky floors, the peeling wallpaper—it was all a little run-down, but I didn’t mind. I was just happy to have my own space again. But things quickly took a turn.

It started slowly. Little things, like objects being out of place. A mug I didn’t remember using. My keys moved from the counter to the kitchen table. At first, I thought I was just forgetful, distracted by the stress of my new job. But then, I started hearing the footsteps.

It was always at night, when everything was still. I’d be lying in bed, drifting off to sleep, when I’d hear slow, heavy footsteps in the hallway. I thought it was the building settling at first, but the more it happened, the more I felt... watched.

One night, after hearing the footsteps again, I decided to investigate. My heart was pounding as I tiptoed through the dark apartment, the flashlight from my phone casting a shaky light on the walls. There was no one. The hallway was empty, just shadows stretching across the floor from the streetlight outside.

But as I turned to head back to my room, that’s when I saw him.

He was standing at the end of the hallway, just outside the reach of my flashlight. A tall figure, dark and formless, except for his outline. His presence was suffocating, like the air around him grew heavy and cold. He had no face—just a black, featureless silhouette, but somehow, I could feel his eyes on me, watching. Waiting.

I froze.

It was as if my body refused to obey me, rooted to the spot. The figure didn’t move. He just stood there, silent, as if daring me to make a move. The longer I stared, the more it felt like he was pulling me toward him with some unseen force.

I blinked, and in that instant, he was gone.

I rushed back to my room and slammed the door shut, my heart thundering in my chest. I tried to convince myself it was just my imagination, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t. I knew I had seen something—someone—and it wasn’t human.

The next few nights were a blur of restless sleep. I could never quite shake the feeling of being watched, especially in the dark. The footsteps came again, more frequent now, but always when the house was silent. I couldn’t ignore it any longer. The shadow man was real.

One evening, I decided to confront whatever this was. I was done being afraid. I stood in the hallway, my heart racing, my voice shaky as I spoke into the dark.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

There was no answer—just the sound of my own breath echoing in the silence. But then, as if in response, I felt it. A coldness, creeping up from the floor, surrounding me. I could hear it now—the faint whisper of something moving, not far behind me.

I spun around, and there he was—closer this time. His shadow stretched along the walls, dark and long, like it was alive, shifting with every breath I took.

And then, in the quiet, I heard him speak.

"You shouldn’t have stayed."

The voice wasn’t loud, but it felt like it came from everywhere, surrounding me, suffocating me. My skin crawled as I realized I had nowhere to run. The shadow man was closing in, his dark figure growing bigger, more solid, until it felt like he was standing right in front of me.

I screamed, but no sound came out. My chest tightened as I tried to move, but it was like the air itself was holding me in place. He reached out with a shadowy hand, and I could feel its coldness in the pit of my stomach.

In that moment, the fear consumed me. I knew something was horribly wrong, but I couldn’t fight it. All I could do was stare into the void where his face should have been, waiting for whatever came next.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

The shadow man disappeared. Just like that, he was gone.

I ran to the door, my hands shaking, and when I opened it, there was no one there. Just the echo of the bell’s chime fading into the night.

I didn’t sleep that night. Or the next. And after a few more nights of hearing those footsteps, seeing that dark figure, I moved out of the apartment.

To this day, I can’t explain what happened in that hallway. Was it a ghost? A shadow? Something worse? I don’t know. But I do know one thing: the shadow man was real. And I’m sure he’s still out there, watching.

And every time I pass an old, abandoned building, I wonder—Is he waiting for me?