I read bedtime stories to my kids. One of the stories scared me the most.

?One more story, one more story! Please, Dad!? Julius and Rachel cried out to me.
I let go of the door knob and turned the bedroom lamp light back on then walked over to Rachel?s bed, sitting back down at the end of it.
?Okay, one more. But that?s it. Last one,? I said as they simultaneously nodded their heads at me.
I never understood children and their drug-like addiction to scaring the hell out of themselves. My children, Julius and Rachel, love scary stories. They can?t sleep without hearing a few. And this was one of those nights.
I had just finished reading three of them. One was about a ghost, another about a vampire, and then a story about a house cat who could transform into a lion and devour its enemies whenever it pleased. That last one even scared me.
?No, not that one, Dad. We want that one over there!? Rachel said, pointing to the closet.
I opened the closet to find a book sitting atop a counter. It was completely white, with nothing on the front or back. No words, no images, nothing. I used my thumb to rapidly flip through its pages. It let out an odor that clearly indicated its old age. And while flipping through the pages of the book, there were no words. Each page was completely blank.
?Honey?? I said, still looking through the mysterious book. ?There?s nothing here. Where?d you get this book anyway??
?I don?t know. Ask Julius, he?s the one who brought it home.?
?Okay well, nothing to read here, kids. It?s completely blank,? I replied, still flipping through its white pages while sitting at the end of the bed.
Julius came up to me. ?Here, Dad, let me show you.?
Rachel and I sat and watched as Julius took the book from my hands and placed it down on the bed.
?We want a witch story!? my son yelled with his left hand placed on top of the book. ?Okay, Dad. You can read now,? he ended, climbing onto the bed and sitting criss-cross next to his sister.
I paused for a moment with a confused expression on my face, and then I opened the book.
There were words now. Entire paragraphs.
I thought that I had somehow missed a section of the book, but at the same time I was quite certain that I had gone through all its pages.
?Okay, guys. Last one,? I slowly uttered, still confused. ?Ready??
I began reading to them.
?There once was a woman who lived on the slopes of dark and misty mountains. From time to time, the villagers would summon the isolated woman by sacrificing one of their own people to her. The younger the sacrifice, the quicker the woman would come. The villagers called upon her for help. They called upon her to stop impending storms, plagues, diseases, and any other disaster that would come upon them. The villagers called her the evil savior. On one dreadful day, the village was invaded by wild, rabid animals. People were being torn apart and eaten, with livestock consumed alongside their owners. The villagers had no choice. They could not wait any longer, lest every person in the village be consumed. They needed her to come quickly, so they sacrifi-?
I stopped reading, slamming the book shut to the disappointment of my two children.
What kind of story?
?Okay,? I said sternly, ?that?s enough. This is inappropriate for you guys.?
?But, Dad, please! We want to hear more,? Rachel whined.
I got up from the bed. ?No.? I told them to go to sleep and took the book with me.
As I sat in the kitchen going through the mysterious book late into the night, there was a loud knock at the front door. But when I opened the door, no one was there. Nothing. Just the sound of the wind along with some hooting owls.
?Dad!?
I ran to my children?s bedroom and swung the door wide open, hitting it against the wall. ?What? What is it??
But they were asleep.
I scanned their bedroom, and then I began to slowly close the door. And that?s when I heard Julius whisper something.
?What?? I replied. ?Julius? Was that you? I thought you were asleep, buddy.?
I didn?t want to turn the bedroom light on and wake Rachel up, so I had to squint my eyes through the darkness to see my son. He sat up in his bed, his body a silhouette in front of his moon-lit window.
?Dad,? he whispered, gesturing with his hand for me to come closer to him.
I sat on his bed. ?What is it, buddy? You should go to sleep, you have school tomorrow. You know that right??
He paused for a moment, occasionally poking his head out to see the hallway behind me. I looked back at the open bedroom door, confused as to why he kept looking there.
?Dad,? he began, ?she said we?re not safe here.?
?What? Who said that??
He poked his tiny head from his bed again to look behind me towards the hallway, at the end of which you can see the front door of the house.
?She said someone is coming for us, Dad,? he whispered. ?And she said the only way to stop them from hurting us is by giving her something.?
His gentle, eerie words sent chills down my spine. But a moment after he said that, something else happened that absolutely petrified me.
There was another knock at the front door.


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