Flashes of Inspiration

Visited

"Hello?"

I immediately shook my head in disgust at myself. I've always wondered why people call out into a dark room where they just heard a scary noise. What was I going to do if there was an answer?

Thankfully I didn't have to answer that question. Nothing replied but an inky, ominous stillness. I reached around the doorjamb and turned the light on quickly, snatching my hand back with a panicky haste. The gruesome face twisted in psychotic rage that I had expected to see was conspicuously absent. Nothing appeared to be out of place or missing; no broken glass or tossed desk drawers.

The only difference from when I has lain down just ten minutes before was one crisp, pristine boot-print just inside the threshold of the locked front door--just one. A boot-print stamped in blood.