After being awoken by the sound of something feral racing around in my backyard, I was relieved to hear the familiar sound of my dog coming through the pet door. It wasn’t until I noticed him asleep on my bedroom floor that I truly began to worry.
Ted dashed in from the rain before removing his coat and opening his front closet’s door. His usual hanger was taken already, though, by an unfamiliar jacket, still dripping water onto his floor.
Half asleep, I stumbled into my apartment during the middle of night only to find the hallway and kitchen lights wouldn’t work. I’d just reached the living room lamp when a voice behind me whispered “That one’s broken, too.”
Though Jonathon was initially happy to hear his son had gotten over the fear of the monster under his bed, it didn’t last. “Oh, no, daddy,” the child explained, “it told me it was moving to you and mommy’s room.”
I have a reoccurring dream where I’m being chased by an evil version of myself, and last night it finally caught me. This morning I woke up and my shadow was right up against the bed.
Even though June considered herself to have a real “green-thumb”, today she had found something quite unexpected in her garden. Given the state of decomposition, the body was already quite old.
Linda wasn’t usually troubled by impatient people knocking on the bathroom door; it happened at work pretty regularly. Today, however, she’d stayed home…
I had just left town when I noticed a car that had apparently run off the side of the road and pulled over to help. “Thanks for stopping,” the paper in the empty driver’s seat read, “now turn around.”
After stepping from the shower, Robert was shocked by how much gray he saw in the mirror. The thing behind him had skin the shade of something that had been dead for weeks.
“I can't sleep,” Kevin told his wife as he rolled over beside her in bed. But, as usual, she was no help; she’d been much less talkative since her death.