Reddit: Horror Challenge. 300 words

When Henry heard the whispers from the closet, he didn’t close his eyes as usual. Instead, he sat up, kicking the blankets off his bed as he reached for his bat. For too many nights, the darkness had kept him awake at night. For too many nights, it whispered for him to be a bad boy and to make Mommy cry. And so, just as he was going to bed tonight, he had set up his weaponry.

Henry’s grip on the bat tightened as he approached the door, his footsteps causing the floor to squeak. From the closet, more whispers. Louder, beckoning him. He felt drawn to the closet, addicted to it. His unavoidable adventure started when he stepped out of bed and that closet was his Mines of Moria.

He stopped in front of the door. The whispers were almost deafening. They made his head hurt, his eyes hurt. His body shivered. His arms ached. It felt like a rope was pulling his arm forward. He took hold of the door knob and twisted it slowly.

Time froze.

Time continued.

“Henry?”

And Henry attacked, swinging the bat down over and over again until it splintered.

***

When the cops found Henry standing over his mother’s body with the murder weapon in hand, they knew they were going to have to prepare for the media circus that would follow.

Reddit Sci-Fi Challenge : 300 words

I'm awoken by blaring alarms. In my sleep-deprived mind, I think it's the usual wake up call and I slap at my nightstand's chronometer. By the time I slam my fist down on the snooze button for the fifth time, my mind catches up with my body and I start putting two and two together.

First, the alarm is louder - the ships alarms. And secondly, I can hear running outside my door. People are panicking, which doesn’t make sense. People in my ship don’t panic. They are scientists and soldiers, the best of the best of the best. Myself? I am a janitor. I am allowed to panic and scream at spiders and shadows.

I hear someone slamming their hands against my door as I climb out of bed. They beg for me to open the door. The voice sounds familiar but I can’t place it. I am unfamiliar to the desperation in it.

If I were a soldier, one of the best of the best of the best, I would’ve raced to the door and fought off anything that was harming the voice. If I were a scientist, one of the best of the best of the best, I would’ve thought of a way to help. But like I said, I am just a janitor. I just stand by my bed wearing only my underwear, frozen, as the person's voice grows in desperation until it is suddenly silenced by a blow that domes my door inward.

I don’t know how long I stand in silence as the sound of carnage consumes the outside world.
The lights flicker overhead. And I know, as a janitor, even if I’m not the best of the best, that my lights shouldn’t be flickering – hell, no lights should be flickering. Then the room goes black.

When the emergency lighting doesn’t come back on, I know I’m fucked.