Philip M. LaVoie
Scraping sounds awake you from your sleep. Something putrid is moving underneath the bed, with razor talons only a thin mattress away from tearing you to shreds. Cringing with disbelief, in a panic you suddenly flee from the bedroom and down the stairs, screaming.In the living room, your corner vision catches a pair of glowing eyes shifting across the large picture window, and when you turn to look they are...still there, only now joined with a drooling maw of fangs.As your heart races to the point of bursting from your chest, you flatten yourself against the wall trying praying to remain unseen until a ghostly, disembodied voice whispers your name from down the hallway. It sounds like a child, but you and your wife have no children.Your wife? Oh, God, where is she?There, in the kitchen she stands, smiling. At last, a piece of sanity from this insane night, and you rush to your loving mate. Behind her back she holds a gleaming butcher knife, waiting to return your embrace. In one swift stoke, her hand arcs down, and you...Turn the page onto the next chapter, nervously anticipating what new horror awaits you this evening. 3
