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I heard a sick thud, my eyes sprang open, and I lay panting in the absolute dark, every inch of my skin tingling.
I felt the wet between my legs, the dream having an unconscious and undeniable physical manifestation.
But I was scared out of my brain.
I could still hear that awful screaming.
I heard that terrible thump.
And it felt like someone was in the room.
I sat upright and reached to the lamp, lighting it.
The first of three turns on the knob made the lamp illuminate very dimly, but it was enough to chase away the dark and for my vision to adjust quickly.
There were shadows, but nothing in them.
I was alone.
A bad dream.
Nothing but a bad dream.
Reasonable. It had been a weird day and I was worried about both Portia and Lou.
But damn, the dream had seemed so real. I’d never had a dream that real.
Used to the light, I turned the lamp one click brighter.
Better.
It was then I felt how cold the room was.
Freezing.
My nose was cold and so were my shoulders, which hadn’t been under the covers. But now, with the bedclothes pooled in my lap, the rest of my body was catching up.
This was reasonable too. If I had to pay to heat this monstrosity of a house, I’d turn the boiler down at night as well.
But it couldn’t be more than fifty degrees.
I got out of bed, went to the wardrobe, and pulled a carefully folded cardigan off an interior shelf and shrugged it on, yanking it closed tight at the front and keeping my arms crossed there.
Wide awake and knowing I’d need more than a few minutes to get myself together, find some calm and try to get some sleep, I moved to the windows in order to check on the mist. There was no reason why I did this, it was just something to do that seemed benign after that crazy dream.
I pulled a curtain back a few inches and looked into the night.
I then stood stock-still as I watched Daniel Alcott, wearing a heavy pea coat, walking away from the house, being swallowed by the fog, vanishing.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, but it was my feet getting uncomfortably cold that made me drop the curtain and scurry back to the bed. I shoved my legs under the covers, pulled them up to my lap, and reached to the nightstand drawer.
Modernization had clearly been something that Richard took seriously, because inside the top drawer was fitted with a strip of sockets and USB ports. Both my vibrator and my phone were plugged in, charging.
I engaged my phone.
It was three oh three in the morning.
I felt bile rise in my throat.
