u/Andrey228228228

Late June is the most depressing time of the year in our town. While the rest of the country is enjoying the summer, all you can hear from our windows is the sound of hammers. Neighbors silently board up their windows with wooden planks. Long lines form in the stores as people calmly, without panicking, but very grimly buy packs of candles, lightbulbs, and batteries. We have simply grown used to preparing for July this way. People from other regions wouldn't understand—for them, our town doesn't even exist on maps during this period, and all the entrances are completely sealed off by military checkpoints. Officially, they call it "scheduled military exercises," but we know the truth.

Yesterday at 8:00 PM, the emergency signal from the E.A.S. broadcasted to all our local phones and TVs once again. The voice of the announcer still echoes in my head, reading the instructions that we already know by heart. Sitting on my couch that evening and nailing thick wooden beams over my windows, I frantically replayed his words in my mind. The man on the broadcast was begging us, reminding everyone that exactly three to four hours before midnight, absolutely all entrance doors in the house must be locked with every single bolt, and they must not be opened until six in the morning. During the day, those creatures are powerless and they leave, but the night belongs to them.

He also demanded that all windows be completely boarded up. No airing out the rooms after midnight. The announcer clearly repeated multiple times that if a window or a door is left open by even a single centimeter, we are willingly inviting them inside, and the entire protection of the house will fail. Finally, he reminded us of our cursed, suffocating randomness: the Dark Night period lasts from July 1st until a random date between July 5th and July 15th. Every year, the end date changes entirely on its own, which is why we can't just cross days off the calendar. But the most terrifying thing he warned us about was the trap of the final night. No matter what date it falls on, the power will NOT go out at midnight. He implored us not to fall for it, not to open windows, and not to go outside, because they simply need time to leave.Around seven in the evening, following the instructions, I went to the front door, locked it with every deadbolt, and put on the heavy metal chain. Then, I turned on all my rechargeable lights and arranged them throughout the rooms so that not a single dark corner remained.

The final requirement kept spinning in my head: try with all your might not to be left in the dark, because darkness is their habitat.Exactly at midnight, the power went out across the entire town instantaneously. An absolute, deathly silence fell over the house. My lamps were working beautifully, flooding everything with bright light. I let out a sigh of relief and went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water... and that’s when my blood ran cold.I remembered the second, back door in the kitchen that leads into a small garden behind the house. Due to all the frantic rush with the windows and flashlights, I had completely forgotten about it. It wasn't just unlocked—I had stepped out through it to smoke earlier that afternoon and left it slightly ajar. I had broken the instructions, left a loophole, and therefore, "invited them." The protection of my entire house was broken.I rushed across the kitchen toward that door, clutching the key in my hand.

But it was already too late.

Out of the darkness of the backyard, a long, completely white, skeletal leg had already stepped through the doorway. They had already found the loophole.I recoiled in pure panic. Because the door was open, the first creature tried to enter the kitchen. But the moment its head and shoulders crossed the threshold, the bright light of my rechargeable lamp—which I had previously placed on the kitchen table—hit it directly. The light is blinding and physically unbearable for them. The creature let out a horrifying, wheezing hiss and violently jerked backward, vanishing into the pitch-black darkness of the garden.

But it was too early to celebrate. Since they had received an invitation through the open kitchen door, they were no longer obligated to wait on the threshold. At first, there was silence. For about thirty seconds. And then, the ground beneath my feet trembled. A heavy, dull thud echoed from the outside. They began climbing the walls of my house. I could hear their massive claws scratching the brickwork with a sickening scraping sound, moving higher and higher. A whole pack of them was scrambling onto the roof.A minute later, a deafening crash of breaking slate erupted right above my living room. They smashed through the roof and entered the attic as a group. Absolute, pitch-black darkness reigned up there—their perfect environment.The hatch door leading from the attic into the hallway began to shake violently. They were trying to come through the normal exit. I reacted instantly: I grabbed two of my most powerful rechargeable lamps, ran to the hatch, and aimed the beams straight up. The moment the hatch cracked open, the light flooded the gap.

A furious, pained screech echoed from the darkness of the attic—the beams had blinded them. They slammed the hatch back down with a loud bang.But I underestimated them. These creatures turned out to be far more intelligent. Realizing that the hatch was blocked by unbearable light, the pack split up. While a few creatures stayed behind to guard the hatch, the largest one crawled deeper into the attic, looking for dark zones. Knowing that the house had officially "invited" them through the open door, they no longer needed the hatch. A terrible scratching sound echoed right above the living room ceiling.In the next second, a deafening splintering sound cut through the air.

The planks of the old ceiling at the far end of the living room gave out—the monster simply crashed right through them with its immense weight. Splintered wood and plaster came crashing down to the floor. From the newly formed black hole in the ceiling, the creature dropped into my room, silently and smoothly.I froze, unable to move a muscle. We were standing face to face in the same room. It was massive, nearly eight and a half feet tall, with unnaturally long, skeletal limbs and completely smooth, corpse-white skin. It wore no clothes, and its face... there was nothing on it except huge, hungry eyes without pupils and pale lips. From its chest came that same whistling, spine-chilling wheeze.The creature took a sudden step toward me, but on pure adrenaline, I whipped my hand up and aimed a powerful construction spotlight directly into its face.The entity hissed violently, deafeningly, and covered its face with its long, bony hands. The beam of light burned it like an open flame. It backed away into the dark corner of the living room, where the spotlight's beam couldn't reach. I stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, gripping the spotlight with both hands, trapping the creature in the narrow beam of light.

It was the most terrifying hell of my life. I stood like that for over three hours. My arms went numb and shook violently, the spotlight was getting heavier by the minute, and its battery began to slowly drain. The light was gradually dimming. The white beast in the corner felt it—it bared its teeth, its whistling wheeze grew louder, and it made short, terrifying lunges forward, testing how much my light barrier had weakened. From above, through the hole in the ceiling and from the direction of the hatch, I could hear the scratching of the other creatures. They were waiting for my last flashlight to die so they could jump down next. At one point, the beam began to ominously flicker. I just closed my eyes and prepared to die.

And then, morning came.

Exactly at 6:00 AM, the very second the sun peeked over the horizon, the creature in front of me jerked violently. It let out a sharp whistle, lunged upward, leaped back into the ceiling breach with unbelievable ease, and along with the rest of the pack, hastily fled the house through the roof. During the day, they are powerless and they leave.Right now, it’s two o'clock in the afternoon. The bright sun is shining outside.

I am alive. The very first thing I did this morning was to permanently board up that cursed back door with massive wooden blocks, call the contractors, and completely seal the hole in the ceiling with thick steel sheets.There are still long nights of this nightmare ahead, and nobody in town knows which one will be the last. But now, I’ve learned my lesson. No more mistakes. And if you ever find yourself in a place like this, check every single door twice. And always keep your most powerful flashlight within arm's reach.

Late June is the most depressing time of the year in our town. While the rest of the country is enjoying the summer, all you can hear from our windows is the sound of hammers. Neighbors silently board up their windows with wooden planks. Long lines form in the stores as people calmly, without panicking, but very grimly buy packs of candles, lightbulbs, and batteries. We have simply grown used to preparing for July this way. People from other regions wouldn't understand—for them, our town doesn't even exist on maps during this period, and all the entrances are completely sealed off by military checkpoints. Officially, they call it "scheduled military exercises," but we know the truth.Yesterday at 8:00 PM, the emergency signal from the E.A.S. broadcasted to all our local phones and TVs once again. The voice of the announcer still echoes in my head, reading the instructions that we already know by heart. Sitting on my couch that evening and nailing thick wooden beams over my windows, I frantically replayed his words in my mind. The man on the broadcast was begging us, reminding everyone that exactly three to four hours before midnight, absolutely all entrance doors in the house must be locked with every single bolt, and they must not be opened until six in the morning. During the day, those creatures are powerless and they leave, but the night belongs to them.He also demanded that all windows be completely boarded up. No airing out the rooms after midnight. The announcer clearly repeated multiple times that if a window or a door is left open by even a single centimeter, we are willingly inviting them inside, and the entire protection of the house will fail. Finally, he reminded us of our cursed, suffocating randomness: the Dark Night period lasts from July 1st until a random date between July 5th and July 15th. Every year, the end date changes entirely on its own, which is why we can't just cross days off the calendar. But the most terrifying thing he warned us about was the trap of the final night. No matter what date it falls on, the power will NOT go out at midnight. He implored us not to fall for it, not to open windows, and not to go outside, because they simply need time to leave.Around seven in the evening, following the instructions, I went to the front door, locked it with every deadbolt, and put on the heavy metal chain. Then, I turned on all my rechargeable lights and arranged them throughout the rooms so that not a single dark corner remained. The final requirement kept spinning in my head: try with all your might not to be left in the dark, because darkness is their habitat.Exactly at midnight, the power went out across the entire town instantaneously. An absolute, deathly silence fell over the house. My lamps were working beautifully, flooding everything with bright light. I let out a sigh of relief and went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water... and that’s when my blood ran cold.I remembered the second, back door in the kitchen that leads into a small garden behind the house. Due to all the frantic rush with the windows and flashlights, I had completely forgotten about it. It wasn't just unlocked—I had stepped out through it to smoke earlier that afternoon and left it slightly ajar. I had broken the instructions, left a loophole, and therefore, "invited them." The protection of my entire house was broken.I rushed across the kitchen toward that door, clutching the key in my hand. But it was already too late. Out of the darkness of the backyard, a long, completely white, skeletal leg had already stepped through the doorway. They had already found the loophole.I recoiled in pure panic. Because the door was open, the first creature tried to enter the kitchen. But the moment its head and shoulders crossed the threshold, the bright light of my rechargeable lamp—which I had previously placed on the kitchen table—hit it directly. The light is blinding and physically unbearable for them. The creature let out a horrifying, wheezing hiss and violently jerked backward, vanishing into the pitch-black darkness of the garden.But it was too early to celebrate. Since they had received an invitation through the open kitchen door, they were no longer obligated to wait on the threshold. At first, there was silence. For about thirty seconds. And then, the ground beneath my feet trembled. A heavy, dull thud echoed from the outside. They began climbing the walls of my house. I could hear their massive claws scratching the brickwork with a sickening scraping sound, moving higher and higher. A whole pack of them was scrambling onto the roof.A minute later, a deafening crash of breaking slate erupted right above my living room. They smashed through the roof and entered the attic as a group. Absolute, pitch-black darkness reigned up there—their perfect environment.The hatch door leading from the attic into the hallway began to shake violently. They were trying to come through the normal exit. I reacted instantly: I grabbed two of my most powerful rechargeable lamps, ran to the hatch, and aimed the beams straight up. The moment the hatch cracked open, the light flooded the gap. A furious, pained screech echoed from the darkness of the attic—the beams had blinded them. They slammed the hatch back down with a loud bang.But I underestimated them. These creatures turned out to be far more intelligent. Realizing that the hatch was blocked by unbearable light, the pack split up. While a few creatures stayed behind to guard the hatch, the largest one crawled deeper into the attic, looking for dark zones. Knowing that the house had officially "invited" them through the open door, they no longer needed the hatch. A terrible scratching sound echoed right above the living room ceiling.In the next second, a deafening splintering sound cut through the air. The planks of the old ceiling at the far end of the living room gave out—the monster simply crashed right through them with its immense weight. Splintered wood and plaster came crashing down to the floor. From the newly formed black hole in the ceiling, the creature dropped into my room, silently and smoothly.I froze, unable to move a muscle. We were standing face to face in the same room. It was massive, nearly eight and a half feet tall, with unnaturally long, skeletal limbs and completely smooth, corpse-white skin. It wore no clothes, and its face... there was nothing on it except huge, hungry eyes without pupils and pale lips. From its chest came that same whistling, spine-chilling wheeze.The creature took a sudden step toward me, but on pure adrenaline, I whipped my hand up and aimed a powerful construction spotlight directly into its face.The entity hissed violently, deafeningly, and covered its face with its long, bony hands. The beam of light burned it like an open flame. It backed away into the dark corner of the living room, where the spotlight's beam couldn't reach. I stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, gripping the spotlight with both hands, trapping the creature in the narrow beam of light.It was the most terrifying hell of my life. I stood like that for over three hours. My arms went numb and shook violently, the spotlight was getting heavier by the minute, and its battery began to slowly drain. The light was gradually dimming. The white beast in the corner felt it—it bared its teeth, its whistling wheeze grew louder, and it made short, terrifying lunges forward, testing how much my light barrier had weakened. From above, through the hole in the ceiling and from the direction of the hatch, I could hear the scratching of the other creatures. They were waiting for my last flashlight to die so they could jump down next. At one point, the beam began to ominously flicker. I just closed my eyes and prepared to die.And then, morning came.Exactly at 6:00 AM, the very second the sun peeked over the horizon, the creature in front of me jerked violently. It let out a sharp whistle, lunged upward, leaped back into the ceiling breach with unbelievable ease, and along with the rest of the pack, hastily fled the house through the roof. During the day, they are powerless and they leave.Right now, it’s two o'clock in the afternoon. The bright sun is shining outside. I am alive. The very first thing I did this morning was to permanently board up that cursed back door with massive wooden blocks, call the contractors, and completely seal the hole in the ceiling with thick steel sheets.There are still long nights of this nightmare ahead, and nobody in town knows which one will be the last. But now, I’ve learned my lesson. No more mistakes. And if you ever find yourself in a place like this, check every single door twice. And always keep your most powerful flashlight within arm's reach.