I woke up in darkness. The street light across from my house cast menacing shadows on the bedroom wall, energized by the cool wind.

There was a sound from the basement, a clicking noise filtered up through the floor. Throwing aside the sheets, I stepped into the hall dodging imaginary phantoms on the way.

As I reached the top of the basement stairs I heard the noise again.

grind, pause, click!

“Philip?” I called below. My husband had not been in bed with me. Maybe he fell, he could be hurt.

Wait, I have a husband? I descended the staircase and stepped down to the left, turning several times in a spiral on the way down. This wasn’t my house.


“Philip, is that you?” I called.

grind, whirr, click!

I flicked on the light at the bottom of the stairs and a heap of torn, bloody canvas moved in a corner just out of pool of light.

“Help me..” Philip gurgled.

I woke up bathed in sweat. I was on the floor next to my bed.

Oh god, I was tired.

I looked up to see him in the doorway.

“Who are you?”

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