Page 4 of Taken Away

The figure moved farther into the light.

Mabel's pulse thundered in her ears.

She took one shaky step backward until the backs of her knees hit the mattress.

“No…”

The word slipped out before she could stop it.

“Oh God.”

Pain shot down her left arm.

Her pulse turned violent and uneven.

The intruder froze.

Mabel could not move.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.

The room tilted.

Her vision narrowed.

Moose slammed against the door again, wood and metal groaning under his weight.

For one desperate second, hope surged through her.

Come on, Moose.

Please.

The figure glanced toward the bedroom door.

Then back at her.

Mabel reached blindly for the lamp, the phone, anything⁠—

“Why couldn’t you leave it alone?”

Something inside Mabel settled.

A strange calm.

A certainty.

A faint smile touched her mouth.

“You’re too late,” she whispered.

“She’s already coming.”

The pillow came down over her face.

Heavy velvet pressed against her skin. The scent of lavender detergent filled her nose.

She screamed.