It was a dark and stormy night (Wait, have you heard this one before?), when suddenly the power went out. She’d been reading a note left on the counter and trying to figure out just who left it there. (Uh oh, that can’t be good.) Her roommate had moved out a week ago and no one else had a key, unless—but Sheila wouldn’t have copied her key.
The note said, “You should be more careful…” but that’s as far as she’d gotten when the lights went out. She felt in the junk drawer for the flashlight, pulling her hand back quickly when it touched something wet and slimy. (Hm, could be blood, or it could be one of those condiment packets stuffed into the drawer had leaked.)
That was when she heard the floorboards creaking overhead. She told herself it was just the normal sounds that were never spooky in the daylight. It sure sounded like someone was walking down the upstairs hallway. Now she had a dilemma. Should she call out Sheila’s name, figuring she must have come back to get those last couple of boxes? Or should she get out of the house now?
I mean, it wasn’t Halloween. It was just a simple storm. She had no chainsaws or really any tools for that matter; she didn’t even have an old shed. Her car was right outside, and it started reliably every time. And there was no dark forest anywhere nearby. This was a small city, for cryin’ out loud.
Taking a deep breath (Because that’s what you do just before you make a decision.), she grabbed her jacket, went out and got into her car, and called her friends to let them know she’d meet them at Denny’s.
If she had looked in her rearview, she might have seen the man with the sword (It looked like a sword.) leaving right behind her. And she might have noticed that the jacket she’d grabbed was not wet from rain.