You Can Have the Hallway

Every night at exactly 3:17 a.m., my dog sat up and stared at the hallway. No barking.

No growling. Just staring, like someone was standing there. I laughed it off—until

I realized my dog only did that when someone came home late. Tonight,

I finally whispered, “Who’s there?” The hallway answered. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

My dog whimpered and crawled under the bed. The lights flickered. The temperature

dropped. I smelled damp earth. The voice drifted closer. “You sleep in my

room now.” I tried to move. I couldn’t. My phone buzzed with a notification:

Motion Detected. The camera feed showed my bedroom. I was asleep in the bed.