Terror Incognita

Lots of moons ago when I was little, my mother and I went to stay at a B&B in Gloucester. It wasn't your average B&B though, being more of a home turned into a hotel, and what a place. Over four hundred years old, with creaky, narrow staircases, and odd shaped rooms overlooking the surrounding countryside. We stayed there fairly often as my mum was friends with the owner, and as there was also a stable with horses, a hay barn, orchard and swimming pool to explore, I didn't object one iota to being dragged along to stay there. Add to that the fact they also had two dogs, rabbits, and a Siamese cat, it was on occasion rather difficult to persuade me to go home again.
The woman that owned the place also had a daughter the same age as myself, and after about the third visit, there wasn't an inch of the house that I didn't know as we'd play hide and seek if it was too wet to run riot in the grounds.
One weekend when we were staying, it was the owner's birthday, and a party was being held for the 'grown ups'.
I was allowed to stay up for an extra hour, but all too soon I was sent to bed, and I wended my way up the narrow stairs to the room where my mother and I were staying. It was my favourite room, set at the end of a corridor, with an original door with a proper latch, and a window set back into the wall to provide a seat just big enough for me to sit on and watch the sunset. My bed was opposite the window, and the room was set back from the corridor so that from the bed I couldn't see the door.
As it got dark, I snuggled into bed. I'd left the window and curtains open, and the moonlight soon began to play on my face as I slowly slipped into dreams whilst the comforting sounds of chatter and laughter from downstairs lulled me to my rest.
But then suddenly I heard a strange noise...
It was a scratching at the door which immediately set my spidey sense to full tingle. To say I was scared was an understatement, and to add to my fear was the fact that I hadn't heard a single footstep from the stairs.
By then I'd become accustomed to every creak and squeak that the house made, and this was a new and scary noise, the likes of which I'd only ever heard in horror films of the Hammer ilk.
Barely daring to breathe, I listened for a familiar sound, but only the scratchety-scratch at the door was to be heard.
Somewhere downstairs I knew the grown ups were still there, but the laughter and music was all too far away and dim as the door slowly creaked open.
Yet still I could not hear any footsteps or even a hint of a human presence, and I froze in terror as the door swung fully open and hit the wall.
I knew something was in the room, but still I couldn't hear anything to indicate what it was.
All I could hear was my heart pounding, when suddenly a gust of wind caught the curtains making them billow into the room letting the full moon silhouette a shape of for all I knew was a vampire jump onto my bed!
I screamed louder than I ever had in my life as the 'vampire' went for my face, then screamed some more as the evil horror screeched at me!
My mother and some of the guests came dashing upstairs to see what was wrong.
They found me and the Siamese cat both howling and sobbing on the bed. I don't know to this day which of us were more traumatized by the incident, and the owner fixed all the latches on the doors to make them more secure from exploring cats in the night afterwards.