Oh God, what did I do to deserve this?

Ryan stumbled through the dimly lit hallway,

ducking into an open room. As if my life doesnt suck enough, he thought. Earlier on
that same day, Ryan Skoll, a junior at Fenrir University, had failed a physics exam,
missed football practice, broken up with his girlfriend of six years, spilled grape juice
over his laptop, and gotten into a huge fight with his dorm mate that left him with a
black eye. To top it all off, his mother had called in the middle of the night and
woken him up. She'd announced that his Great-aunt Mikayla had died, in the flat
voice she always used whenever she went on her drug sprees. His mother gave him
Mikayla's address and sent him to an old farmhouse to retrieve some possessions
immediately. I didn't even KNOW I had a great-aunt Mikayla, he had thought after
she hung up. Whats so important about this old junk anyway? He pulled a dinged
up tin container from his pocket and inspected it closely. The rusting metal gave the
once smooth cylinder a corrosive feel. It was basically falling apart. His mother had
given him strict instructions to make sure the box remained closed. A sound out in
the hall stopped Ryans reverie. He plastered himself against the grayish crumbling
walls and listened hard. There it was again, a faint sound, sort of like someone was
trying to walk quietly and sneak up on him. Im just paranoid, Ryan thought, his
heart hammering. The unsteady tapping moved closer, sort of lurching really. Like
someone was dragging a limb across the floor. Draaag-thump. Draaag-thump.
Draaag-thump. He clutched the round tin box to his chest and wildly looked around
the dusty bedroom for an exit. Everything seemed to get bigger in the dark. Grayish
shapes loomed seemingly out of nowhere. Draaag-thump. The dragging continued
past the room Ryan was in and he let out a sigh of relief. At that moment, Ryan
inconveniently remembered that he was deathly terrified of the dark. He whimpered
quietly, and the movement in the hallway paused. Ryan held his breath, and his
heart pounded so hard, he was almost certain the thing outside could hear it. There
was a creaking noise, and the sound backtracked, approaching slowly. Draaagthump. Draaaag-thump. The same steady, anticipating gait. Draaag-thump. Ryan
squeezed his eyes shut and lunged into a piece of furniture that was covered in
sheets. Is this a bed? He crawled uncomfortably over a particularly lumpy section
before crouching down. He rustled around mutedly. Draaag-thump. Draaag-thump.
Draaaag. The dragging reached the doorway and stopped. Ryan could just barely
make out the silhouette of a hunched man. I'm too young to die! The figure
approached slowly, purposefully. Draaag thump. Draaag thump. All Ryan could do
was crouch, paralyzed with fear. The figure gave off a musky stank odor, as if it had
just crawled up from six feet of earth. It limped closer and closer...draaag thump.
Ryan found his legs staggered backwards. An arm shot out and grabbed him by the
neck, and Ryan tried to yell for help, but all that came out was a fearful rasp. The
figure's leathery grip tightened and the last thing Ryan heard before everything
went black was the insistent draaag-thump.