12:07am

One. Two. Dot-dot. Zero. Four. A.M.

The moon was bright and perfectly round. Like a brand new nickel. Shiny, silver, that untouched-by-messy-human-hands kind of new. Young Lily Pikeman kept her eyes glued to the vivid green numbers on the oven display. She was in her long nightgown of pink and lace, eagerly anticipating the moment her eyes would see it change to one two dot-dot zero six A.M. That was when her birthday really began according to her mother, who told her the cupcakes were off limits until the actual moment she entered the world. When the clock had a one then a two, with two tiny dots, then a zero and a six on it - 12:06 - she would truly be older. Thus deserving of the coveted prize. She was eyeing the cupcake on the counter, just barely out of reach of her tiny, soon-to-be four year old hands. If she was careful enough she could slide a kitchen chair across the pure white tiles and get one of the shiny pink treats without waking her mother and father down the hall.

One. Two. Dot-dot. Zero. Five. A.M.

Lily smiled.

Unaware of the dark eyes looking at her from the shadows.

She was so close, stifling a giggle of excitement beneath her breath. The chill of autumnal air bounced against the window above the sink, where the moonlight showered the stainless steel appliances of the apartment in a magical glow. The window where a bright pink ‘4’ candle was resting in its packaging waiting 'til the morning light. The moon was lighting the way to delicious sweets, this Lily was sure of. A birthday gift, from the big white guardian in the sky, she told herself as she gingerly climbed atop the mahogany chair. It groaned against the weight, sinking its feet into the crevasses of newly placed grout below its antique haunches.

The outside world was deathly quiet, even the persistent rustling of the changing leaves that had aggravated Mrs. Pikeman all week had fallen silent. The rain had come and gone, leaving a wet-earth smell and water droplets hiding between screens and windowpanes. It was a cool night in October, the scarecrow in the distance wavered slightly, its silhouette illuminated by the sharp light above. Scarecrow Run, the road her new home had been built upon, was known for the creepy figure at the crossroads all throughout town. The farmland it had once guarded taken over by industry and greed. She liked its silly face. She had named it Charlie. The building had that smokey smell that came alongside a heater being turned on for the first time. The apartment complex stood silent; businessmen out of town, their housewives asleep, children tucked in. Not a single light illuminating any of the windows. A singular pumpkin smiled against a dying candle on the porch next door. It was as still as a graveyard out there. Quiet Vale Apartments kept true to its namesake.

The only break in the stillness was the birthday girl. There was the cupcake, the prize. It had a bright fondant flower on top. Focusing so intently on the small dessert she failed to notice the shift in the atmosphere. The soft cackle coming from somewhere in the distance. The moonlight wavered a bit, casting a shadow across the kitchen floor that went unnoticed. The clock changed to that fated number and it had become her birthday.

One. Two. Dot-dot. Zero. Six. A.M.

She felt taller, wiser. Still so innocent and unaware of the black human-shaped form cast on the floor behind her. A birthday, you see, is a momentous occasion when you’re newly four. It comes with a lot of grown-up responsibility and focus. This gift of self-assured maturity surely deserved some late-night sugar. She giggled and the wind howled outside, a nearby branch bounced against the window with a gentle tap. She jumped a bit, the noise so loud against the quiet she nearly dropped her beautiful magenta sweet. As she steadied herself on the chair, black pigtails bouncing against her pale skin, she looked at the rain splattered pane to see the noise that had nearly blown her super-secret mission.

Against the bright light of the moon stood a dark shape, the shape of a man, in the window. The scarecrow in the distance behind him was gone. The stranger was nestled between the rose bush and the screen, blocking out a portion of the full moon. Lily gasped quietly, dropping the cupcake on the ground. It splattered against the immaculately clean flooring with a soft thud, leaving a crime-scene of sticky pink and purple. Vanilla cake and bleach scents filled the room. There was a smile, with blinding white teeth like a cartoon, nestled against his featureless face. Spiked out, straw like hair went every which way. His forehead was pressed against the glass, he was covered in something red and dripping. Head turned so far to the side it looked as thought it would snap. He pressed a finger to his mouth to hush the girl inside, lips unwavering, nothing to cover the demonic smile before moving his slender finger to press it against the glass. He lightly banged his head against the window rhythmically like a soft metronome atop a piano.

Lily screamed.

One. Two. Dot-dot. Zero. Seven. A.M.

That smile would be the last birthday gift young Lily Pikeman ever received. In the morning all that remained was a blood red stain reading 'run' and the shattered dreams of pink strewn across the white tile floor.