waited with bated breath, hoping her prayers had been answered. Long seconds ticked by in silence. Then something thumped sharply against the door. And thumped again, more insistently.
Emma sat numbly, torn between fear and guilt. The thumps were not strong. They sounded like they were made by someone in need. Possibly an old person. Or a child. Or someone who’d been injured.
Emma thought of her neighbors, running through the list in her head, considering who might be out there seeking her help.
Stop it. It’s not a person. Something broke loose and the wind is knocking it around.
The thumps stopped. A scraping sound replaced them, like a dog scratching to be let in. The suspense made the hair on Emma’s neck stand up. Gathering her nerve she crept quietly towards the door. She’d had enough of the suspense and needed to find out once and for all if anyone was out there. She thought about switching off the house lights, but that would be too obvious, letting whoever was out there know that someone was home, and awake.
A bright flash of lightning flickered through the windows, followed by a deafening boom of thunder. A second later the power died, plunging the house into darkness.
Emma froze, her heart in her throat, then she stepped to the door and slowly drew back the curtain. The top half of the door was one big window, but she saw nothing through the rain-drenched glass. Nothing but pitch blackness.
A flurry of lightning flickered across the sky. The flashing light revealed Russell standing outside. He stood in an expressionless daze for a moment, then his head jerked stiffly and his dead fish eyes locked on Emma through the window.
Oh God no… it can’t be.
The window exploded as Russell punched his hand through and grabbed Emma by the hair. She shrieked and tried to pull free, but even in death his grip was strong. He yanked her head forward, trying to bite her face. A shock of pain and terror lit her up.
“No, Russell, please!”
Russell’s other arm squeezed through the broken glass, oblivious to the jagged stalagmites slicing into his flesh.
In a galvanic reflex Emma planted her feet against the door and launched herself desperately backwards. A clump of her hair tore off in Russell’s fist and she landed hard on the floor.
Russell pushed his head and his arms through the broken window. Glass shards dug into his torso, slowing his progress, but his dead flesh felt no pain.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Mrs. London’s voice rang out as she stormed into the room and found her daughter sprawled on the floor. “Emma… are you alright?”
Emma was numbed into silence, watching in terror as Russell continued wriggling his torso through the window, hampered by his stiff uncoordinated limbs and the glass digging into his body.
Her mother was speechless, perplexed by the bizarre scene unfolding in the darkness before her. “What the hell?” she finally gasped. “Is that who I think it is?”
Emma stumbled to her feet and grabbed her mother’s hand, trying to drag her away to safety. “Mom, come on! It’s not safe here! We have to go!”
Her mother jerked her hand free, standing firm. “I’m not going anywhere, young lady. I won’t put up with this kind of nonsense in my house. I told you he was no good.”
Emma watched in horror as her mother marched boldly toward the door, where Russell was halfway through, wedged clumsily in the window frame, stuck on a big shard of glass jammed into his belly. “Mom, no! Keep away! He’s not himself! Something’s happening!”
Bu t her mother’s temper was aroused. There’d be no stopping her now. Under normal circumstances, Emma wouldn’t have bet on Russell to win the battle. “Get the hell out of my house, you lousy bastard! I’ll have you locked up! Emma, call 911!”
“Mom, no! Stop! He’s not normal!”
“I can see that! Jesus Christ, what the hell did you do to my door, you drugged up delinquent?” her mother
Emma sat numbly, torn between fear and guilt. The thumps were not strong. They sounded like they were made by someone in need. Possibly an old person. Or a child. Or someone who’d been injured.
Emma thought of her neighbors, running through the list in her head, considering who might be out there seeking her help.
Stop it. It’s not a person. Something broke loose and the wind is knocking it around.
The thumps stopped. A scraping sound replaced them, like a dog scratching to be let in. The suspense made the hair on Emma’s neck stand up. Gathering her nerve she crept quietly towards the door. She’d had enough of the suspense and needed to find out once and for all if anyone was out there. She thought about switching off the house lights, but that would be too obvious, letting whoever was out there know that someone was home, and awake.
A bright flash of lightning flickered through the windows, followed by a deafening boom of thunder. A second later the power died, plunging the house into darkness.
Emma froze, her heart in her throat, then she stepped to the door and slowly drew back the curtain. The top half of the door was one big window, but she saw nothing through the rain-drenched glass. Nothing but pitch blackness.
A flurry of lightning flickered across the sky. The flashing light revealed Russell standing outside. He stood in an expressionless daze for a moment, then his head jerked stiffly and his dead fish eyes locked on Emma through the window.
Oh God no… it can’t be.
The window exploded as Russell punched his hand through and grabbed Emma by the hair. She shrieked and tried to pull free, but even in death his grip was strong. He yanked her head forward, trying to bite her face. A shock of pain and terror lit her up.
“No, Russell, please!”
Russell’s other arm squeezed through the broken glass, oblivious to the jagged stalagmites slicing into his flesh.
In a galvanic reflex Emma planted her feet against the door and launched herself desperately backwards. A clump of her hair tore off in Russell’s fist and she landed hard on the floor.
Russell pushed his head and his arms through the broken window. Glass shards dug into his torso, slowing his progress, but his dead flesh felt no pain.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Mrs. London’s voice rang out as she stormed into the room and found her daughter sprawled on the floor. “Emma… are you alright?”
Emma was numbed into silence, watching in terror as Russell continued wriggling his torso through the window, hampered by his stiff uncoordinated limbs and the glass digging into his body.
Her mother was speechless, perplexed by the bizarre scene unfolding in the darkness before her. “What the hell?” she finally gasped. “Is that who I think it is?”
Emma stumbled to her feet and grabbed her mother’s hand, trying to drag her away to safety. “Mom, come on! It’s not safe here! We have to go!”
Her mother jerked her hand free, standing firm. “I’m not going anywhere, young lady. I won’t put up with this kind of nonsense in my house. I told you he was no good.”
Emma watched in horror as her mother marched boldly toward the door, where Russell was halfway through, wedged clumsily in the window frame, stuck on a big shard of glass jammed into his belly. “Mom, no! Keep away! He’s not himself! Something’s happening!”
Bu t her mother’s temper was aroused. There’d be no stopping her now. Under normal circumstances, Emma wouldn’t have bet on Russell to win the battle. “Get the hell out of my house, you lousy bastard! I’ll have you locked up! Emma, call 911!”
“Mom, no! Stop! He’s not normal!”
“I can see that! Jesus Christ, what the hell did you do to my door, you drugged up delinquent?” her mother
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