Originally Posted by flikrspeed

My entry

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The little boy creeped silently through the hallway, shivering. It was dark, he could just barely see his hands outstretched in front of him. The floorboards creaked. The boy stopped.
He swore that the sound did not come from under his foot. He was scared, but was he paranoid? His foot was heavy but he kept on going. His shaky hand reached into his pocket and found his phone, he turned it on and pointed it ahead, daring to use it as a source of light.
He had only moved halfway down the hall at the time, but the hall was empty. He took a cautious step towards the sound. Left. There was a door, his hand automatically reached towards the doorknob.
The doorknob was cold and sent a tingle down his spine. He grabbed hold and turned it. He loosened himself for a second and pushed softly. The excruciatingly loud screech of hinges sounded. The boy was now terrified. He tip-toed slowly into the room.
The feeling struck. The slight tingle on the back of his head. He turned around. Nothing was there. Nothing was there now at least. The little boy whimpered. Someone was watching, something was watching.
His eyes darted around, his breathing now irregular, he could hear the muffled sound of his heart beating. Why was he here? How did he get in here?
A footstep. Two footsteps. The boy froze. Three. It was coming closer. Four. It was gone. The boy had just realised that he was holding his breath and exhaled. He pointed his phone around. He saw stairs.
While he was terrified, he found himself attracted to the stairs. Automatically moving towards the stairs. Scared of what was to come.
By the time he was aware of his actions he was at the top. He turned around.
No, he thought he turned around. He found himself walking into another room, a bedroom. The window was open, moonlight flooded the room. He looked around and flinched when he saw a painting of a woman staring directly at him.
It made him feel uncomfortable so he looked away.
Another footstep. The boy froze once again. He looked around.
A shadow was moving across the wall. A shadow of something that wasn’t there. It was in the shape of a person.
The shadow stopped, as if just realizing that the boy was there. The boy stepped backwards towards the door.
An inhuman scream filled the little boy’s head and he froze in terror as the painting’s lips curled into a smile.

... Not really used to writing horror.
Can I keep on adding to this just in case i come up with more?