The raspy ding of the doorbell echoed through the room. Laura sighed at the injustice of being grounded on Halloween, and grabbed the controller to pause the movie. She eyeballed the clock. 11:30 was way too late for trick-or-treaters. And where were her parents, anyway? They should have been back from their party ages ago.
She looked at the dark front door. There were no lights on in the house except for the flash of the television set. She shrugged, turning back to the movie where a laundry list of teens was being systematically killed off in gory ways.
The doorbell rang again, followed by insistent knocking. She stood up and snuck around to the front window, peering out into the dark. At first, she couldn’t see anything at all, so she pressed her face to the window and looked harder, hands cupped around her eyes.
A pale face appeared in the window in front of her. She stepped back, tripped over her shoes, and sprawled onto her butt, scurrying backward until she hit the wall.
The face remained at the window, staring back. The eyes were fully black, like pits of ink. It appeared to be a young girl, younger than Laura. Dark hair framed her face in a severe bob, and she still had the chubby face of a child. Yet there was something about her that felt wrong, sending a chill up Laura's spine. She shuddered.
The face disappeared, and Laura sat there a moment more, adrenaline coursing through her veins, heart pounding. Her hands clenched the carpet fibers, and the ache of a torn fingernail began to throb in time with her heart. It felt like she had rug burn on her palms; warmth and pain spread throughout them.
She felt like she could stay rooted to that spot forever, but then she had a thought. The front door wasn't locked.
The tile was cool on her abraded palms as she crawled along the floor. Any moment, the girl could burst in. She darted quick glances around the room for something to defend herself with as she crept toward the door, but nothing stood out.
Every particle of her being wanted to run away from the door, not step up to it, but she stood and approached it, reaching for the knob.
A voice filtered through the wood of the door. “Can we come in?”
Laura slammed one palm against the door and used the other hand to turn the deadbolt. She flipped on the outside light and stood there, unable to move, afraid to breathe, one hand still pressed to the door's smooth surface. She tasted bile in her mouth.
Her palm began to tingle. She jerked it back from the door, clenching it at her side. The tingling didn’t stop, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose, goosebumps rushing up her forearms. She could feel the presence through the solid surface, malignant.
She rose up on her tiptoes, careful not to let any part of her touch the door, and looked through the peephole. Complete black met her gaze, and she stared harder, trying to figure out what was over the hole.
The darkness pulled back, light leaking in, and there was an eye, which resolved into the round face of another young girl. Laura jerked away from the door, stumbling back to stand in the middle of the tiled entryway, hands gripped in front of her chest.
If she’d needed to stand on tiptoe to look out there, how was the girl looking back in at her?
And had the girl been able to see Laura peering through the peephole?
“Hello?” The voice was young and plaintive. “Can we come in?”
“Go away," Laura said. "I’m calling the police.”
“But we’re lost. Can’t we just come in to call our mom?”
“No!”
It was quiet for a moment. Then came the sound of muffled sobs.
“Now you’ve upset my sister.”
Laura gulped, the saliva sliding down her dry throat like a rock. She really could call the police, but she’d left her phone on the coffee table, and part of her feared that if she took her eyes off the door, they’d get in.
Even as she stood there thinking this, a compulsion to open the door came over her. The tingling in her palm moved to her fingers, and they began to twitch. Against her will, her arm rose, her feet moved. She forced herself to still, hand partially raised toward the door. As much as she tried, she couldn’t get the hand to go down, and it was all she could do not to run to the door and unlock it, throw it open for whatever stood outside.
“Please open the door for us. We just want to call our mom.”
The voice was louder than it should have been, as if the speaker, that creepy little girl, was in the room beside her. Laura's skin crawled, shoulders climbing into a hunch around her ears.
When her hand grasped the deadbolt, she realized she’d taken the three steps it required to get to the door. Once again, she stopped herself from going further, wresting her hand away from the lock.
“Let us in, Laura. We can feel you standing there.”
She jumped at the sound of her name in the little girl’s high pitched voice. How did she know her name?
Once again, she stood on tiptoes, putting her eye up against the peephole. She could just see the two little girls, hand in hand, the same height. Twins? They looked much the same, only one looked sad and scared, the other angry, her face pinched.
They were both staring directly up at the peephole, eyes burning into hers. The compulsion to open the door was on her once more. She felt like a puppet, unable to control her own movements. The bolt turned easily in her hand.
Light washed over the girls, making them appear briefly translucent. Laura heard the garage door opening and unconsciously pulled back to look in that direction.
When she turned back to the peephole, the girls were gone.
***
That night, standing in her darkened room, Laura was drawn to her window. Down below, in a puddle of warm light, the two girls stood, hands still clasped. They stared directly at her, unmoving for several moments. An electric shock of fear sizzled up her back, dread filling her stomach.
The girls slowly raised their unclasped hands and waved with just their fingers, perfectly synchronized, before dissolving into the night.
Laura slept with her light on that night, and for many that followed.
***
Fifteen years later…
“Mom, my dress won’t stay!”
Laura looked up from the sandwiches she was hastily putting together. Her daughter, golden haired and delicate, stood before her, princess dress off-kilter, wig askew. She put down the sandwich and beckoned her daughter over to her.
“Alright, honey, let’s just get that fixed.” With deft fingers, she pulled the thin fabric together and pressed the Velcro closed. Once the gown was straightened, she went to work on the wig, removing the barrette from her own hair and using it to stick the wig on a mite more steadily, tucking several dark hairs back under it.
“Thanks, mommy! Is it time to trick-or-treat yet?”
“Is your dad home?”
“No.”
“Well, when he gets home, it’s almost time to trick-or-treat.”
Lily sagged a bit, mouth drooping, and flounced out of the room in a cloud of fake blond hair and blue gauze.
Laura laughed and finished putting together the sandwiches, opening a bag of chips and dumping some on each plate before adding a handful of baby carrots. Then she pulled out a Diet Coke and sat on a stool in her kitchen, relishing the dusky light that filtered in through the small window over the sink.
She didn’t get many quiet moments, and she was determined to enjoy this one.
The familiar notes of a Disney song drifted into the kitchen from the living room. Laura rolled her eyes, taking another big swallow of her soda. The front door opened, and her husband called out in his deep voice, “Where’s my little princess?”
“Daddy!” The stomp of tiny feet, and her gauzy girl flew past the kitchen to the front door. Bill came in, Lily clutched in one arm, a giant bag of candy bars in the other. Laura reached out to take the candy. “Thank you. Last year we ran out, so I wanted to be sure we had enough. Don’t want to get T.P.’ed like the Johnsons.”
“A little toilet paper never hurt anyone,” he said.
“Have you ever had to clean that mess up?” she asked.
“Nope, but I’ve got a blow torch.”
“What’s a blow torch, daddy?”
“Something you can’t play with, baby girl. It’s a daddy toy. Now let’s have some dinner so we can go trick-or-treat.” He put Lily down and she followed him up the stairs, jabbering about princesses and candy. Laura shook her head and grabbed the big plastic cauldron. She poured the candy in and set it by the front door, drifting back into the kitchen and her now room temperature soda.
It didn’t take long for Bill and Lily to reappear in the kitchen and scarf down their food, him dressed in a Batman costume and almost as excited as their daughter. Laura let Lily eat only half her sandwich, but insisted she drink all of her milk. By the time her whirling dervish was out the door, Laura was exhausted from the last minute costume adjustments and constant litany of enthusiastic chatter. She settled in to read a book and await the chiming of the doorbell.
The weather was pleasant, so the doorbell dinged constantly for the rest of the evening. When Bill tromped in around eight with an exhausted Lily, Laura left the rest of the candy to him and went up to get Lily settled into bed. By the time she came back downstairs, the candy was gone. Bill had changed out of his costume into some sweats, and was lounging on the sofa.
“I figured we could watch something before I head to bed,” he said, holding an arm out for her. She snuggled in against him, and they watched a horror movie before he went upstairs. She stayed behind to watch something lighter and unwind a bit more.
About an hour after Bill had gone up to bed, there was a soft knock at the door. Laura looked at the time: 11:30. She frowned and went to the door, flipping the porch light on. When she peeked through the peephole, she saw two small girls standing outside. They wore black dresses, their hair in matching dark bobs. They were holding hands and standing there quietly.
Concerned that these two were out alone at this time of night, she undid the deadbolt and opened the door.
“Girls, where are your parents?”
She immediately regretted her decision when she saw their coal black eyes staring back at her, devouring the light that poured from the decorative brass lamp on the porch. Their skin was so white she could see black veins underneath it. When she attempted to step back and close the door, her muscles strained against her.
“We’re lost. Can we come in?”
Laura tried to tell them they couldn’t, to push one single word out, but her throat wouldn’t work. Her heart pounded, yet she couldn’t close the door, couldn’t do anything but grasp the edge of it, her knuckles turning white. Her throat made a clicking sound, mouth hanging open as she tried to force the words, any words, out.
One girl stepped closer, eyes boring into Laura’s. She smiled and yanked her sister’s arm to bring her alongside. That one stayed silent, though her eyes were wide and wet, tears threatening to spill.
Finally able to move, Laura stepped back. The dominant girl followed her, stepping up into the threshold, pulling her sister with her. The girl's gaze never strayed from Laura's, and Laura couldn't look away.
As their feet touched the hardwood of the entrance, they both threw their heads back. There was a pulse of darkness, the light in the foyer dimming.
Whatever that had been, Laura was released from her strange paralysis. She shook her head and stepped forward, reaching for the girls, unsure what to do. She screamed for Bill.
Her hands felt ice cold as they plunged through the space the girls should have inhabited. She recoiled, pulling her hands back and staring at them. They should be frost-bitten, the cold had been that intense. When she looked back up, the dominant one was smiling, the other placid.
Bill’s voice sounded from the top of the stairs. “Honey? What’s wrong?”
She turned to look up at him, reaching for the girls once again. She fell forward, hands not touching anything, not even the cold air. When she looked back, they were gone. Just like that.
She looked around, frantic with the fear that they were somewhere in the house, but there was no way they could have slipped around her without her or Bill seeing them.
“Did you see them, Bill?" she asked. "Did they leave?”
“’They’ who?” he asked.
“The girls. Are they in here? Where did they go?”
He rubbed his face, hair standing up from having been fast asleep. “I didn’t see any girls. Did you fall asleep? Maybe it was a dream.” He started down the stairs, smothering a yawn and hitching up his boxers.
Laura slammed the door, locked it, and pressed her back to it, breaths puffing out like a steam engine. Her fingers throbbed with the force of the blood moving through them.
“I wasn’t asleep, Bill. There were two little girls. Creepy girls. They had black eyes—“
“I’m sure they just looked that way in the dark.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m crazy. There were girls out there.”
“I bet they were just playing a prank. It is Halloween night.” He came up to her and pulled her into his arms. “You’re shaking. Here, come in here and sit down, and I’ll go outside and look around.”
“No! They’re dangerous. I can feel it. Stay in here with me.” She clutched his arm, pulling him with her to the kitchen, where it was warm and bright. Her safe place. Before she could sit down, she ran in to check that the back door was locked. She pulled the shades on that and the windows so nothing could look in.
“You really need to calm down," he said. "Do you want me to call the police?”
“They wouldn’t be able to do anything," she said. "I remember something like this happening when I was in high school. I swear, these girls looked just like those ones. Isn’t that weird?”
Bill just looked at her, running a thumb over her forearm. “Well, they’re gone now. Everything’s okay. You ready to come up to bed?”
Laura nodded and followed him upstairs. She climbed into bed, refusing to look out the window. Not this time.
***
The next few days went by without incident. Laura relaxed, convincing herself it had just been a prank. Bill had been right. She caught him looking at her with concern for the first day or two, but when nothing else happened, he stopped.
On the fourth night, there was a knock at the door at 11:30 again. This time, Laura refused to go to the door, though her skin crawled, and she felt her face flush from the blood pounding behind the skin.
She turned the TV up, focusing on the screen and refusing to look anywhere else. The doors and windows were all locked. She’d checked.
After a few more knocks on the door, there was silence. She turned the TV back down, knees pulled up against her chest, chin resting on them. The sensation of being watched crept along her back and neck, and she felt a strong desire to turn around and look.
She jumped when a knock sounded on the window behind her. When she looked, all she could see were the drawn curtains.
Suddenly, there was knocking everywhere. The windows, the doors, the walls. It sounded like there was an entire army out there, pounding on her house. She jumped up from the sofa and ran to the stairs, passing the front door on the way. As she sped by it, she heard a loud whisper: “Let us in.”
She yelped and ran up the stairs, slamming through the bedroom door and shaking Bill awake. “There’s someone outside. They’re pounding on the doors and windows.”
“What? Who’s pounding on the windows?” Once again pulled out of sleep, Bill struggled to sit up, rubbing a hand over his blinking eyes.
“There’s someone outside hitting the house. Quick! Come downstairs.”
He swung his legs out of bed and followed her, sweatpants grasped in his hand.
The only sound was the TV, which babbled on in the living room, casting flashes of light off the walls.
Bill went to the door and looked out the peephole. He pulled his head back and slipped into his sweatpants before unlocking the deadbolt. Laura grabbed his arm and pulled at him, but he opened the door and pulled his arm out of hers.
“Stay here and grab the phone in case you need to call the police,” he said.
With that, he slipped outside. Laura stood in the doorway, rubbing her arms against the chill air that now crept into the house. The night wrapped around the warm glow from the lamp.
“Who’s out here?” he called, moving down the sidewalk to the driveway. As he rounded the corner of the garage, disappearing from her sight, Laura’s attention was drawn to the road, where she caught a glimpse of something pale against the dark backsplash of the night. There it was again. A face. No, two faces, peering at her from across the street, the figures hard to see because of the dark clothing.
“Bill! They’re across the street.”
When there was no response, she ran after him, no longer able to see the faces. Her stomach clenched as she moved out of the light from the front porch, and she called for him again. Looking around her with short, sharp jerks of her head, she scanned for the girls and for Bill, one hand clenching her sweater closed at her collarbone.
Something crunched off to her right. She let out a small shriek, hand fluttering to her mouth. She tried to stop, but tripped forward, slamming into a figure as it rounded the garage. Letting go of her sweater, Laura pushed against the bare arms wrapping around her.
“What are you doing out here?” Bill asked.
“I saw them, the girls. I was coming to let you know.”
He frowned, puzzled. “What girls?”
“The ones from the other night. It was them." She pointed in the direction they'd been. "I saw them, there, across the street.”
There was nothing there.
He sighed and cupped her elbow in his hand, gently leading her to the front door, which yawned wide open.
“I can’t believe I left the door open," she said. "What if they’re inside?”
No longer hiding his exasperation, he said, “They’re not inside. How old are these girls you keep seeing, anyway? Teenagers?”
She thought back to their white faces, still curved with baby fat. “No, maybe more like nine or ten.”
“You’re telling me ten-year-old girls are tormenting you?” He removed his hand from her arm and turned to shut and lock the door. “Seriously?”
“They aren’t normal kids. There’s something deeply wrong with them.”
“I don’t know how to respond to this. I haven’t seen or heard anything.”
Laura placed a hand on his arm. “I know, but you’ve got to believe me that something’s going on. I can’t explain it.”
“Okay. Next time something happens, we’re calling the police." He shook his head and climbed back up the stairs. "I don’t know what else to do.”
Laura went to turn off the television, ready for bed herself, but when she got into the living room the TV was already off, the controller laid neatly on the table. Had she turned it off without realizing it? Must have.
She started up the steps, flipping the lights of the main floor off. Above her arose the sound of small feet running across the carpeted floor.
"What is that girl doing?" she asked herself. Occasionally, Lily got up in the middle of the night for a glass of water, or because of a nightmare.
Lily's door was closed, so Laura turned the knob and stepped inside. The pink flower nightlight lit the room, and her still form breathed softly from the bed. Laura moved to the side of the bed and pulled the blanket up, tucking it around her daughter. She smoothed the hair away from her forehead and rubbed a hand down her daughter’s cheek. Lily didn’t stir.
As Laura stood up, she noticed the closet door was ajar, inky blackness spilling from it. She moved over to close it with a gentle push. Footsteps sounded on the carpet behind her, a soft puff of sound. Without turning, Laura spoke to Bill. “I thought she was up walking around, but she’s fast asleep.”
When she turned to look at him, there was no one there. Obviously, her imagination was working overtime. Time for bed.
As she approached the door, she stepped into a pocket of icy air, raising goosebumps on her arm. She pulled the door shut behind her and went to her room, closing her own door and turning on the house alarm at the glowing panel. Bill breathed deeply, already fast asleep, one arm flung over his forehead.
Laura went into the master bathroom, feeling safer now that the alarm was on. She started the water in the shower and placed her clothes in the hamper. Hot water flowed over her as she stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind her. She stood there for a moment, eyes closed, letting the heat soak into her skin, the water pounding down on her head.
A cold draft drifted through the shower, moving the curtain against her leg. She tried to pull it off her skin, but touched something solid through the material.
A hot rush of panic filled her, heart pounding against her ribcage. She backed up against the cool tile wall. The curtain shifted then went back to hanging straight. A shadow moved across it. Laura reached out with a trembling hand to yank it open.
Steam curled out of the shower into the empty room. The door was still closed, the mirror fogged.
Laura turned off the water and grabbed her towel, stepping out into the bathroom. She dried her hair then reached over and wiped the condensation from the mirror. A flash of white caused her to jerk her head around to look behind her, but there was nothing there.
She hastily finished her bedtime routine before climbing in beside Bill and snuggling up against him. His warmth helped her relax, and she eventually fell asleep.
***
Laura swam up from a dream about a TV playing in a dark room. She was cold, shivering. Something brushed her face, and she swept at it with a heavy hand, still battling sleep. It touched her again, icy cold, and she opened her eyes.
Standing over her, pale faces almost glowing in the dark, were the two girls, black eyes looking even darker than before. They grinned, but it didn't change their eyes.
She shoved herself backward into Bill, who grunted and rolled over, throwing an arm over her side and pulling her in close. She struggled against him, slapped him on the arm.
“Ow, what?” he mumbled.
Her eyes not leaving their faces, Laura reached over and slapped his arm again. “They’re in here,” she whispered.
The quiet one opened her mouth, stretching it to the limits of her jaw, a dark maw gaping before Laura’s face. The other one smiled, mouth stretching an unnatural distance, white teeth against dark lips.
Behind her, Bill rolled over, putting his back against hers. How had he not seen them?
Something wriggled in the girl’s open mouth, something pale white like her face. It pushed out, serpentine in its movement, and slid across her cheek with a dry rasp. Black tears rained down her cheeks, and Laura was afraid the tears would hurt if they touched her. She reached behind her to nudge Bill, trapped between him and the girls.
The grinning one reached a pale hand toward Laura’s face, moving slowly. Her fingers were long, skeletal. Laura knew that if the girl touched her she was finished.
A scream broke through her lips and the girls disappeared. She couldn’t stop herself, even when they were gone, and Bill shook her. It took a moment to calm down. Bill turned on the lamp on his side of the bed before placing a hand on her shoulder.
“What’s going on?" he asked. "Are you okay?”
“They were in here. In our room. Those girls!”
He studied her for a moment, looking into her eyes without blinking. Finally, he said, “I think we need to call someone tomorrow. About these things you’re seeing. Maybe there’s something you can take that would help.”
“You think—“
Frantic screams broke into what she was about to say. They both jumped out of bed and ran into Lily’s room, Laura running straight to her bed while Bill turned on the light.
“Mommy! There were people in my room!”
Laura sat on the edge of Lily’s bed and pulled her into her arms, looking over the sobbing girl’s head to meet her husband’s eyes. Instead of the understanding she thought she’d see, he wore a look of disappointment, lips pressed together.
“Now you’ve got her believing this?” he asked.
***
The next night, Laura opted to sleep in Lily’s room. She and Bill hadn’t spoken since their fight the night before, which had dragged on well into the early morning hours. Normally, she would have made him sleep in the guest room, but this way she could keep Lily safe.
Plus, she was too scared to sleep by herself. Not that she figured she’d be sleeping much.
She made sure to go up to bed before 11:30 since that seemed to be the time everything began. If she wasn’t downstairs, maybe they couldn’t come in again.
Stretched out next to Lily, who slumbered peacefully, cheeks pink, mouth slack, Laura read a book using a small book light. She became drowsy as she read, even snorting herself awake at one point. A glance at Lily’s kitty alarm clock showed 11:57.
A sense of triumph filled her. She’d made it! After 11:30 and nothing had happened. Bedtime.
Lily moved beside her with a little sound, so Laura put an arm out and pulled her in tight, chin resting on top of her head. She took a deep breath and relaxed, eyes drifting shut.
Then the cold crept in, icy fingers on the back of her neck, running down her spine.
The blankets shifted, creeping down from her neck. Over her shoulder. Down her arm.
She grasped the blanket and pulled it back up, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, body curled around Lily’s.
The blanket began to slide down again, and cold fingers wrapped themselves around her foot, which stuck out from beneath Lily’s small blanket. A giggle sounded behind her. Frigid fingers touched her neck again.
Unable to bear it anymore, Laura jerked her leg up and turned around, throwing an arm out. She made brief contact with something before it dissolved into cool air.
There was nothing behind her.
She lay there, heart pounding, body twisted. Then she heard it: a giggle.
At first it was quiet, and she couldn’t pinpoint where it had come from. She combed the dim light with narrowed eyes, straining to see what stood in the dark corners of the room. As she scanned the shadows, the closet door popped open. Just a crack, but the darkness falling from it seemed blacker than any of the room’s other shadows.
She froze, staring at the door, heart climbing into her throat.
Pale fingers slid around the door's edge, and it opened further, gliding without sound. A thin white arm became visible, but nothing else.
The next giggle didn’t come from the closet.
The hairs on the back of Laura’s neck stood up. The sound had come from above her. Everything within her screamed for her not to look up, to simply grab Lily and flee, but she had to know.
Without moving any other part of her body, she brought her gaze up to the ceiling. A dark mass swirled above her, taking the shape of a girl. It elongated toward her, gathering darkness to it as it moved, sucking the scant light from the room.
When the mass was right above her, a pale face emerged from it, soulless black eyes forming voids before her. A mouth appeared and opened as another giggle sounded, blowing an arctic blast of rotten meat-scented air right into her face.
The cold air acted like a bucket of water, breaking the paralysis that held her. Laura grabbed Lily and fled the room, screaming for her husband.
Her screams awakened Lily, who began to sob.
Laura kicked her bedroom door open and found Bill scrambling out of their bed. He looked at her, standing there with their terrified daughter. Then his eyes tracked sideways and widened.
His voice was quiet when he said, “Get away from the door, Laura.” His gaze stayed near the door to her right, and Laura stepped sideways, turning her head to look where she’d just left.
The girls stood there, holding each other’s hands. Their eyes were massive, swallowing their corpse-white faces. Black veins throbbed in their temples, dark blood pumping into those eyes, which reflected no light, even when Bill pulled the lamp chain to illuminate the room.
“What do you want?” Laura asked, grasping Lily tightly to her.
Instead of answering, the girls both swiveled their heads to the right. The phone let out an eerie squeal, similar to an old dial-up modem. Bill covered his ears and Laura wrapped her arm around Lily’s head and pressed her into her chest, trying to muffle the screeching the best she could.
Silence fell.
The phone rang.
“It’s for you,” both girls said at the same time, though their mouths didn’t move.
Laura met Bill’s eyes, and he moved over to answer the phone, stretching his arm out toward it.
“No!” The girls lifted their free hands and Bill was thrown against the wall. Plaster cracked and he slid to the floor in a limp heap.
They turned their wretched eyes back upon her, and Laura felt ice water moving through her veins. Their mouths opened simultaneously, but only one voice sounded. “Only you may answer.”
Setting Lily on her feet, Laura shoved her daughter behind her. As she moved sideways toward the phone, she kept Lily safely hidden. The phone continued to ring, the girls watching her, bodies rigid, faces expressionless.
The phone was cool in her hand when she lifted it from the charger. The ring stopped abruptly, before she had a chance to push the button. She froze, phone grasped in her hand, Lily’s hands clutching the back of her shirt.
“They hung up,” she said, not sure what she expected from the girls in response.
Smiles stretched their mouths simultaneously, and then static burst from the phone. Laura dropped it. The battery fell off the phone when it struck the ground, but the sound didn’t cease. Eyes on the girls, she bent to pick it up, but this time when her hand made contact, the phone was so cold it burned. It seared into her flesh, but when she tried to release it, the plastic had molded itself to her hand.
She brought the phone to her ear, and through the static she heard a cacophony of gravelly voices joined in a choir of hideous sound.
“Let us in.”
There was a burst of sound: screams, shouts, wails. Then silence. The two girls tilted their heads, and then the windows burst inward, glass flying through the room. Laura turned and covered Lily with her body, waiting for the piercing pain of glass shards.
Nothing happened. Wind wailed through the room, but still nothing struck her.
When she dared look up, she saw the glass swirling around the girls, who were looking toward the windows with smiles on their faces. She turned and instantly wished she hadn’t. Climbing in through the windows was a set of boys, as pale and empty-eyed as their female counterparts. Crashes sounded from below. Were there more?
Laura dragged Lily over to Bill, who was starting to come around, moving sluggishly. He brought a hand up to his head, winced. There was blood there, but not much.
Through the door came more children, all in pairs. Black eyes, pale skin, throbbing black veins lacing their faces. Each pair held hands and stared at the family before them. More entered through the windows. The room was filling up.
Lily stood up and pushed out of her mother’s arms. Her hair rose, standing on end as if hit by a large amount of static electricity. The lightbulb exploded, plunging the room into darkness. And in front of them, Lily glowed, white light radiating out from her tiny body. Her hands flew out to her sides, fingers spread wide, and she threw her head back. Her open mouth emitted a voice that wasn’t hers. Deep and sonorous, it lapped at the walls in almost visible waves, the timber so palpable that it could be felt.
“You are not welcome here.”
The white light grew, filling the room, forcing Laura to cover her eyes.
The sound of something pelting the floor made her open her eyes. The pale children were gone, glass sparkling on the carpet.
Tentatively, Laura reached a hand toward her daughter. Her blond hair now lay flat, and her arms were wrapped around her stomach. “Lily?”
“Mommy?” Lily turned, her movements slow. “Mommy, I can’t see.”
Laura gasped as her daughter turned to face her.
Where her eyes had been, pools of darkness now resided.