Slumbering in the basement, it heard something overhead. The gentle padding of feet. Then voices. It lumbered around in the dark and walked to the staircase, listening carefully. No. It hadn’t imagined it. There were soft things in the house. One, two, three of them. And so soon after the one it had eaten in the upstairs bedroom. It wondered if they knew the bedroom thing and were looking for it. Perhaps not. They seemed to have come through the front doors, not a window. No matter. The sounds of life made it hungry again, so it turned invisible and started up the stairs.