Some houses hold things that can kill. |
The digital clock read midnight and, unknown to its inhabitants, the old house slowly became active. Floorboards creaked, doors rattled, and hanging fixtures began to flutter on their own. Low voices wafted along hallways, then shifted into occupied rooms. Awakened, Jerry sat up, rubbing his eyes. Half-aware of his surroundings, he stared at a black mass that glided toward the foot of the bed. Obeying the murmured voice, Jerry silently left the warm covers and followed the shape to the kitchen where several similar figures were assembled. "Do it, Jerry! You must!" "Yes! Do it for us! For her!" Consenting, Jerry opened a drawer and took a sharp steak knife. Teasing it across his wrists, he sliced through the veins, spilling blood on the floor. Dropping to his knees, he quickly died. Startled by the huge thump!, Christine bolted out of bed, surprised to see that her husband was not in bed. "Jerry? Where are you?" Receiving no answer, she proceeded to the kitchen, stopping dead in her tracks. "No! JERRY!" As if by magic, the discarded knife flew into the air and impaled Christine in the heart, killing her instantly. 191 |