3-AM by Mark Antony Raines

3 AM.

It’s 3 am. My room is dark, but  i can see that there is someone, standing at the foot of my  bed.  I can just make out that he or she is wearing a clown costume, and I  am  pretty sure, from the glare and the little bit of reflection, that it has a knife.My heart  is beating  like a drum on hyper drive; I am frozen to the  spot.A voice  whispers in  the plutoian darkness  (Please to meet  you )I in a nervous  stutter rely (what are you  going to  do  to me)The stranger  replies  (I watching  over  you as I was assigned  by the agency )I am just  stunned  and in my head wondering  if  this is a trick of my mind  due to the time of  day. The stranger  slowly  creeps and slither and crawl  from  under the  bed. The Stranger  emerges I am trying  to  let out a  scream  from inside  but no sound comes out as the  cold steel slits across  my throat. Blood  pouring out like a waterfall  and my body  slumps  to  the  floor  just  another  victim of the 3 am  killer. The End.