To be honest, I wanted to scream my head off. Scream until my lungs would collapse or the windows would break…but I didn’t. Instead, I observed my intruder.

He was a tall man – mid forties, I guessed. What was really weird about him was his clothes. He was wearing a black trench coat (what else?) that swept the floor.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Quite the inquisitive one, I see,” he said, smiling widely. There was something about that smile that disturbed me; I took a step back.

“How did you get in here?” I asked. When I didn’t get an answer, I said something else. “I’m going to get the police!”

“That wouldn’t work,” he responded coolly, eying me critically. “So…you’re the one that’s been with him the past years? I had wondered where he disappeared to.”

“What the heck?! Get out of my house! I don’t know who you are, or how you got in here, but you’re going to suffer if you don’t move right now.”

“Quite the contrary, Patricia. Your suffering begins only now.”

And with that, he was gone.