The Porch Phantom, Catarina’s Tale of Terror

 

Catarina

Catarina’s heart raced as she made her way home from the university library. The sun had long set, and the streets of her small college town were eerily quiet. She always enjoyed the solitude of her evening walks, but tonight, a chilling breeze carried a sense of unease.

As she turned onto her street, the familiar crunch of gravel underfoot seemed louder than usual. Catarina’s instincts prickled; she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone’s eyes were piercing through the darkness, fixating on her every move.

She quickened her pace, her footsteps echoing in the night. The old Victorian house she called home loomed ahead, its silhouette a stark contrast against the starless sky. Catarina’s mind raced with thoughts of warmth and safety, but as she approached the driveway, her heart skipped a beat. The creepy sensation intensified, wrapping around her like a tangible shroud.

With a surge of adrenaline, she sprinted up the front porch steps, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. She fumbled for the door handle, her fingers trembling. The sound of stealthy footsteps on gravel sent a jolt of fear through her spine. They were getting closer, faster.

The door swung open, and Catarina stumbled inside, slamming it shut with a force that shook the walls. She twisted the bolt into place, and not a moment too soon. The door handle rattled violently, as if someone was desperately trying to gain entry.

Panic-stricken woman returning to her Victorian house

Catarina’s mind was a whirlwind of panic and confusion. She dropped her backpack and raced through the house, securing every door and window. The absence of a peephole left her blind to the potential threat lurking outside. Her heart pounded against her ribs, threatening to burst.

The nearest neighbor, Mrs. Aldridge, lived about 50 feet away. Catarina knew she had to act. She snatched the phone from its cradle and dialed the elderly woman’s number with shaking hands.

“Mrs. Aldridge, it’s Catarina from next door. Can you please check if someone is on my front porch?” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause, and then Mrs. Aldridge’s frail voice crackled through the line. “I’ll have a look, dear, but my eyesight isn’t what it used to be.”

Catarina waited, her entire body tensed, as the seconds stretched into an eternity. Finally, Mrs. Aldridge spoke again, her tone laced with confusion. “I don’t see anyone, Catarina. Are you sure— Oh! Wait a minute. Someone just leaped off your porch and is heading down the hillside towards the motels.”

A younger man in a white T-shirt, Mrs. Aldridge described, though her vision was too poor to offer any more details. Catarina’s mind raced with questions. Who was he? What did he want? Was he waiting for her?

The silence of the night was deafening, punctuated only by the distant hoot of an owl and the occasional rustle of leaves. Catarina’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she tried to calm her racing heart. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the man was still out there, somewhere in the shadows, watching.

She moved away from the door, her back pressed against the cold wall, and slid down to the floor. Her phone was still clutched tightly in her hand, the only lifeline to the outside world.

“Mrs. Aldridge, please stay on the line with me,” Catarina whispered, her voice trembling.

“Of course, dear. I’m here,” came the soft reply, a small comfort in the vast darkness.

Catarina’s eyes darted around the dimly lit room, searching for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon. She remembered the heavy flashlight in the kitchen drawer, a gift from her father for emergencies just like this.

“I need to get the flashlight from the kitchen. Will you wait for me?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“I’ll be right here, Catarina. Be quick, and be careful,” Mrs. Aldridge urged.

Gathering every ounce of courage, Catarina rose to her feet. Each step felt like an eternity as she made her way to the kitchen. The old wooden floorboards creaked under her weight, betraying her movements.

She reached the kitchen and fumbled through the drawer, her fingers finally closing around the cold metal of the flashlight. As she switched it on, a beam of light cut through the darkness, casting long, ominous shadows across the room.

Intruder

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed from the front of the house, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Catarina’s heart leaped into her throat. He was trying to get in.

“Mrs. Aldridge, he’s breaking in!” Catarina cried out, panic seizing her.

“Call the police, Catarina! Now!” Mrs. Aldridge’s voice was firm, insistent.

Catarina calling the police

Catarina dialed 911 with shaking hands, the numbers blurring before her eyes. She relayed the situation in hushed, urgent tones, the dispatcher’s calm voice a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around her.

As she waited for help to arrive, Catarina armed herself with the flashlight, her grip so tight her knuckles turned white. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

The minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last. Catarina jumped at every sound, every shadow that moved. She was a trapped animal, cornered and scared, but not helpless.

Finally, the sound of sirens pierced the night, growing louder as they approached. Flashing lights danced across the walls, and Catarina let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

The police arrived, their authoritative voices cutting through the fear that had enveloped the house. They searched the property, finding no one. The intruder had fled, leaving behind only the broken window as evidence of his presence.

Relief and gratitude felt by the woman upon the arrival of the police

Catarina gave her statement, her words a jumbled mess of fear and relief. As the officers assured her they would patrol the area, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever feel safe again.

Mrs. Aldridge stayed on the phone with her throughout, a steady presence in the storm. And as the sun began to rise, casting a soft glow over the horizon, Catarina knew one thing for certain: she would never ignore her instincts again.