The clock on the wall read 2:07 AM.
Outside, the world was asleep. The streets were deserted, shops were shut, and an eerie silence hung over everything.
It was the middle of the Corona lockdown.
For days, perhaps weeks, life had been reduced to the same four walls. No visitors. No friends. No late-night walks. Just endless hours of isolation, interrupted occasionally by the sound of a television or the distant bark of a stray dog.
He was sitting alone in his recliner.
The television was switched off. His phone lay on the table, its screen dark. There was nothing particularly unusual about the night, except that the silence seemed heavier than usual.
He shifted in his chair, stretched his legs, and reached for the lighter lying beside him.
Click.
A small flame appeared.
He stared at it absent-mindedly.
The tiny yellow-orange light danced gently, illuminating his fingers and casting strange, distorted shadows on the walls.
He clicked it off.
Then on again.
Click.
He held it closer to his face, watching the flame flicker.
And then --
Everything went black.
The fan stopped.
The refrigerator fell silent.
The faint humming of the air conditioner disappeared.
There was no sound whatsoever.
A power cut.
"Shit," he muttered.
But he wasn't worried. Power cuts were common during lockdown. He still had the lighter in his hand, and its tiny flame was enough to illuminate a small portion of the room.
He raised it slightly.
The light revealed the sofa opposite him, the curtains, the entrance to the hallway, and the familiar photographs hanging on the wall.
Everything looked normal.
Until he noticed something.
The shadow of the recliner was moving.
He stopped moving his hand.
The shadow stopped too.
He tilted the lighter slightly.
The shadow shifted.
He frowned.
Perhaps it was just the flame.
He leaned back and held the lighter steady.
That's when he heard it.
A faint sound.
"Hhhhhhhhh..."
Like someone slowly exhaling.
He froze.
He turned towards the hallway.
Nothing.
"Who's there?"
No response.
He laughed nervously at himself.
"Bloody imagination."
He looked back at the lighter.
The flame was unusually steady now.
And then --
Fffffffffff...
Someone blew it out.
Not a gust of wind.
Not a flicker.
It was a deliberate, gentle breath.
Right in front of him.
The flame disappeared.
Complete darkness.
He couldn't see his own hands.
For a few seconds, he didn't move.
His heart began pounding.
"Hello?"
Silence.
He frantically clicked the lighter.
Click. Click. Click.
Nothing.
His thumb slipped against the metal wheel.
"Come on! Come on!"
Click.
The flame appeared.
He almost dropped the lighter.
He immediately raised it, scanning the room.
The sofa.
The curtains.
The hallway.
The entrance.
Nobody.
But something felt wrong.
He was certain someone had been standing right in front of him.
He slowly moved the flame towards the space directly opposite his chair.
Nothing.
He checked behind the sofa.
Nothing.
Then he heard a familiar sound.
The electricity was back.
The fan started rotating.
The refrigerator hummed.
The air conditioner came alive.
The lights flickered twice before illuminating the entire room.
He immediately stood up.
"Who's there?"
He searched behind the curtains.
Opened the bathroom door.
Checked the kitchen.
Looked inside the bedrooms.
He even checked the main entrance.
The door was locked from inside.
Every window was shut.
There was nobody.
He stood in the middle of the living room, breathing heavily.
Slowly, his heartbeat returned to normal.
He looked at the lighter in his hand and gave a nervous laugh.
"Get a grip, man."
He walked towards the kitchen to get a glass of water.
Then he stopped.
Something caught his attention...........
Outside, the world was asleep. The streets were deserted, shops were shut, and an eerie silence hung over everything.
It was the middle of the Corona lockdown.
For days, perhaps weeks, life had been reduced to the same four walls. No visitors. No friends. No late-night walks. Just endless hours of isolation, interrupted occasionally by the sound of a television or the distant bark of a stray dog.
He was sitting alone in his recliner.
The television was switched off. His phone lay on the table, its screen dark. There was nothing particularly unusual about the night, except that the silence seemed heavier than usual.
He shifted in his chair, stretched his legs, and reached for the lighter lying beside him.
Click.
A small flame appeared.
He stared at it absent-mindedly.
The tiny yellow-orange light danced gently, illuminating his fingers and casting strange, distorted shadows on the walls.
He clicked it off.
Then on again.
Click.
He held it closer to his face, watching the flame flicker.
And then --
Everything went black.
The fan stopped.
The refrigerator fell silent.
The faint humming of the air conditioner disappeared.
There was no sound whatsoever.
A power cut.
"Shit," he muttered.
But he wasn't worried. Power cuts were common during lockdown. He still had the lighter in his hand, and its tiny flame was enough to illuminate a small portion of the room.
He raised it slightly.
The light revealed the sofa opposite him, the curtains, the entrance to the hallway, and the familiar photographs hanging on the wall.
Everything looked normal.
Until he noticed something.
The shadow of the recliner was moving.
He stopped moving his hand.
The shadow stopped too.
He tilted the lighter slightly.
The shadow shifted.
He frowned.
Perhaps it was just the flame.
He leaned back and held the lighter steady.
That's when he heard it.
A faint sound.
"Hhhhhhhhh..."
Like someone slowly exhaling.
He froze.
He turned towards the hallway.
Nothing.
"Who's there?"
No response.
He laughed nervously at himself.
"Bloody imagination."
He looked back at the lighter.
The flame was unusually steady now.
And then --
Fffffffffff...
Someone blew it out.
Not a gust of wind.
Not a flicker.
It was a deliberate, gentle breath.
Right in front of him.
The flame disappeared.
Complete darkness.
He couldn't see his own hands.
For a few seconds, he didn't move.
His heart began pounding.
"Hello?"
Silence.
He frantically clicked the lighter.
Click. Click. Click.
Nothing.
His thumb slipped against the metal wheel.
"Come on! Come on!"
Click.
The flame appeared.
He almost dropped the lighter.
He immediately raised it, scanning the room.
The sofa.
The curtains.
The hallway.
The entrance.
Nobody.
But something felt wrong.
He was certain someone had been standing right in front of him.
He slowly moved the flame towards the space directly opposite his chair.
Nothing.
He checked behind the sofa.
Nothing.
Then he heard a familiar sound.
The electricity was back.
The fan started rotating.
The refrigerator hummed.
The air conditioner came alive.
The lights flickered twice before illuminating the entire room.
He immediately stood up.
"Who's there?"
He searched behind the curtains.
Opened the bathroom door.
Checked the kitchen.
Looked inside the bedrooms.
He even checked the main entrance.
The door was locked from inside.
Every window was shut.
There was nobody.
He stood in the middle of the living room, breathing heavily.
Slowly, his heartbeat returned to normal.
He looked at the lighter in his hand and gave a nervous laugh.
"Get a grip, man."
He walked towards the kitchen to get a glass of water.
Then he stopped.
Something caught his attention...........
