Nori awoke the next morning coughing from the dust under her parents' bed and her arm tingling from her falling asleep on top of it the night before. Army-crawling her way out from her hiding place, she massaged her arm painfully, blinking in the morning light. She wondered whether she had merely imagined the whole thing last night or not, but she remembered the terror. That had been real enough.
Gripping her machete close, she scooted her way downstairs. She peeked around corners and tread as quietly as she could manage. When she felt somewhat secure in the fact that no one was in the house with her, she mustered the courage to call out.
"Hello?"
After several more minutes of silence, she heaved a sigh of relief and made her way over to the kitchen and slopped some cereal and milk into a bowl. Her machete lay on the countertop beside her and her fingers still twitched, ready to grab it should she hear a sound other than the sound of her eating.
It was too quiet. Although she would've flown out of her skin had she heard anything else, the oppressive silence was a constant reminder of how isolated she was, how alone. She hated it. Also, her terrifying experience the night before had left her anxious and jumpy. She desperately needed the company of another human being, the sound of someone else's voice but her own.
She whimpered softly into her soggy cereal. There was only one other human being on this side of the mountain: creepy old Mr. Connelly. He was her only hope for company while her parents were gone.
In all fairness, Nori knew she didn't give the old man enough credit. She was certain that he was a nice enough man. The fact that he was a paranoid conspiracy-theorist living alone in the mountains didn't exactly help his case however, and neither did the horrible stories he told whenever he came over for dinner about the monsters living in the woods.
Sufficed to say, she would've ordinarily never reached out to him. But she was beginning to have a nervous breakdown and he was the only one who could possibly come to her aid. She bit her lip. Perhaps the events of last night sanctioned giving him a call.
Rinsing her bowl in the sink, she cleaned up her mess and made her way over to the phone in the den, the very same den in which she had been terrified out of her mind last night. She flashed a nervous glance towards the sliding glass door. There was not a soul to be seen. She heaved a sigh.
Mr. Connelly's number was written on a sticky note beside the phone; her parents really had thought of everything. Lifting the landline to her ear, she negotiated with a tangle in the spirally cord. It was an old landline with a hefty black handset. It reminded her of a red toy phone she used to play with as a child. It's cool plastic ear and mouthpiece was smooth against her skin.
She had just began to study the numbers on the sticky note, when she realized that the phone was strangely silent; there was no telltale hum coming from the earpiece. She selected the first few numbers on the rotor experimentally, but with no results.
Her anxiety began to rise again as she repeatedly clipped the phone jack in an attempt to hear a dial tone. Still, she heard nothing. It was then that she realized...
"The power's out," she whispered.
The storm last night must have been more intense than she thought. She suspected some trees must've fallen on the power lines.
"Oh shit," she whimpered.
There were no cell phones or laptops in the house. Such things weren't practical in a place that didn't have a signal. Any internet access her house got came straight from the power lines as well. She was virtually cut off from communicating with anyone beyond the walls of the house. What she would've given for a trained carrier pigeon...
She now had no way of telling Mr. Connelly that she was coming or that he should be expecting her.
Turning back to face the nefarious glass door, she bit her lip. And then she stared. With shaking knees, she toed closer. The morning light shining on the glass illuminated a handprint, impossibly long and spidery-fingered. It was at her eye level and was on the out side of the door. She quaked at the sight.
Nori swallowed hard and backed away. It was real, whatever had been outside last night was real and it had been watching her. She felt sick.
She knew now that she had two options: she could barricade her home and make it a defensible fortress or she could chance a trip through the woods to Mr. Connelly's house by herself.
For the first time in her life, Nori felt true mortal fear. She had no idea what this thing or person was or what their intent towards her was, but she could sense that she could either do nothing, or very possibly end up dead. And she knew she couldn't stay in the house alone much longer and retain her sanity.
She was going to make the trip to Mr. Connelly's before dark.
"How many knives do I own again?"