It was late at night and The Three Broomsticks had been closed for hours. The bar was pitch black and the only light that could be seen came from under the door that led to the kitchen. Though the bar had long since closed for the evening, Hannah Abbott sat at her desk working on a massive pile of paperwork. She was tired and the idea of going home was becoming more tempting by the minute, but she knew that she had to finish.

As Hannah sorted through the invoices from her different purveyors, she could hardly believe that an entire month had passed already. She smiled thinking of her first day and how badly she'd wanted to quit. Since then, things had settled down quite drastically. The occasional odd incident still occurred, but for the most part everything now ran as it should.

Biting her lip in concentration, Hannah began crunching numbers. It was her first time filing the invoices at the end of the month and she wanted to make sure she did everything properly. She was so focused, that she didn't even notice as the lights above her began to flicker slightly.

Suddenly, a loud bang in the bar shook her from her thoughts. Panic and adrenaline immediately started coursing through her body. She was alone and even though she had her wand, she felt incredibly vulnerable. She crept carefully along the kitchen wall, avoiding the window in the door to the bar. Cautiously, she peeped through the glass, but was unable to see any movement in the darkness.

After a few moments of crouching behind the door, listening for movement on the other side, Hannah decided that she had to check to see if someone was indeed there. She gripped her wand so tight that her knuckles went white and the palm of her hand started to sweat. Her heart was pounding against her chest cavity, almost as if it knew something was wrong and was trying to escape.

With her free hand, Hannah pushed the door open. She cringed as it squealed loudly, knowing that she'd just given herself away. "Lumos," she whispered and held her wand in front of her preparing for any attack that might come.

In second's Hannah realized that no one was present and her focus turned to the source of the loud noise. Scanning the room, she noticed two bar stools lying on the floor as if they'd been knocked off of the table they'd been stacked on. Her fingers traced the edge of the table and she noticed that the table top was still moist from when she'd wiped them down.

"Hannah," she said to herself, "You've got to relax. You can't be so jumpy about everything all the time. It was just a stool falling over."

Feeling rather silly for her reaction, Hannah waved her wand and the chairs stacked themselves on top of the table. She was just about to return to the kitchen when a several tankards went crashing off of the counter top where they were stacked and shattered all over the floor.

"Ugh. This is getting ridiculous," she muttered as she moved to clean up the mess.

As soon as she stepped behind the bar, Hannah was hit with a searing migraine and wave of nausea that completely overwhelmed her. Every atom inside of her was screaming at her to leave the pub. Her hair was on end and her skin felt as if it was on fire. Without thought, she turned and fled through the front door.

Once she was outside of the pub, the nausea subsided, but the fear stayed. Try as she might, Hannah couldn't convince herself to go back inside. Instead, she decided to lock the front door and return the next day. She knew it was irrational, but she thought the light of day and the presence of customers would make her feel better.

The next day Hannah entered the pub to find Jenna there early getting things ready for the day to come. Relief flooded through her knowing that she wouldn't have to spend any time alone. The previous night's incident left her feeling shaken.

"Oh, Jenna, thank goodness you're here. I had the strangest thing happen to me last night."

Jenna turned to face her. "What happened?"

"I don't know exactly. I just felt this inexplicable urge to leave. Everything in me was telling me that I wasn't safe."

"That is very odd. Do you have any idea why? Was it just because you were alone at night?" Jenna asked with concern plastered across her face.

"Who knows? It defies all logic. Since I didn't have a chance to finish my inventory last night, I'm going to work on that now. If you need me, I'll be in the back."

"Sure. I'll take care of everything up here."

Hannah left Jenna to polish the butterbeer glasses and headed to the giant walk-in refrigerator. On her way there, she picked up her clipboard and inventory list from her desk and set her wand in her desk drawer. She heaved open the heavy door to the refrigerator and slipped a wedge under the bottom of it to keep it from closing.

Once inside of the refrigerator, Hannah began the tedious task of counting each case of each item. She was halfway through her count when the overwhelming feeling to get out returned. She tried her best to ignore it, but with each passing step, the urge got stronger until she couldn't stand it any longer. Spinning on her heels, she bolted towards the refrigerator door only to have it slam shut in her face.

Hannah slammed her body against the door, trying to push it open, but it wouldn't budge. She beat her fists against the cold metal until they were bruised and bloodied. She screamed for help until her vocal chords gave out. She cried until the tears plastered her hair to her face, but no one heard her.

At first, Hannah held out hope that Jenna would come looking for her, but when the hours began to pass, she believed it less and less.

"Ok, Hannah," she began, "Don't panic. I have to keep myself warm. I have to keep moving around. I can't lie down."

To keep herself warm, she jumped up and down, ran in place, and twirled in circles. As she got colder and colder, it became harder to move. Panic began to rise in her and she became aware that death was waiting just behind her. She made one more attempt to bang her fists against the door, but as her energy gave out, she collapsed to the floor.

"No. No. Hannah, you can't go to sleep. Not now," she told herself. With the last of her strength, she forced herself to sit up and pound on the door.

In the bar, Jenna was finishing up polishing the glasses, when a bar stool toppled over.

"Oh. You're not going to start that today are you?" Jenna asked though no one was present.

Next, a butterbeer mug flew off the counter.

"Are you tired of this one already? It took you much longer to get rid of Madame Rosmerta. This one's only been here a month."

The lights all around the pub flickered on and off.

"Alright. If you insist."

Jenna walked into the kitchen and heard a pounding sound coming from the refrigerator. She listened for a minute and then said to the empty room, "It's a shame. I actually liked this one."

Then she returned to the bar until the pounding stopped.

Hi there!

This chapter was the attempt at the horror part of the challenge. I hope the transition from humor to horror wasn't too abrupt!

I'd love to know what you thought of this, so feel free to leave a comment below.

Thanks for reading!

~Kaitlin/TreacleTart