Chapter 1

The gentle tick-tocking of the clock atop the mantelpiece was the only offer of company in the dead of night. It reverberated around the walls that were lined with artworks and ornaments from parts of the world I'd never even visited. Walls so noisy weren't meant to be so silent.

I clutched my fingers against the green leather armchair in the center of the lounge. Sleep was an impossibility. The monsters hunted me, and the lounge would offer no protection.

I rose on weary feet. That movement was a message to the lounge that its comfort was no longer required to keep me safe; that I was strong enough to keep a grasp on my destiny. I could walk through the oak door to the other side. I could free myself of its confines and find somewhere safer.

But the room fought back as I knew it would. The windows burst open with the onslaught of a violent wind, inviting the curtains to a lively waltz. The door shook, shuddered, and shivered a growl like a rabid dog. I crept forward and away from the green leather armchair. My trembling fingers cuddled the golden doorknob and soothed its aches, calming the door to little more than a stutter.

That victory was short-lived. The gentle tick-tocking of the clock atop the mantelpiece withdrew its offer of company. The wind that divorced the curtains from the window retreated to the trees. It cowered from the beast that remained visible in the window frame; a beast blacker than the night that surrounded it and taller than the trees behind. Its long appendages untangled like the shedding of a spider long cocooned. Prickled fingers crossed the threshold to the lounge. I did not see the face. I did not see the mouth. I only saw fingers creeping up the walls and the beast's shadow blot out when little moonlight there had been.

I mustered the strength to pass through the quietened door and made sure to close off the boundary with a firm twist of the lock. Surely, there would be somewhere safe from the beast that lurked outside, so I thought to make my way upstairs.

The muffled tip-tapping of my feet upon the polished floor was a relieving sound, but the adrenalin rush never left, even as I ascended the stairs in the lobby. I was petrified of unseen ghouls as I navigated the silhouettes and statues that lined the second floor passageways. Every hair across my body was as stiff as a pine needle. A cold shiver blanketed my spine.

Yet my path was free. I could see the room I would go to when problems were all that seemed to exist. Fear was not something that existed there. It was mine. It was safe. It was good.

I stepped inside and secured the door. No beasts to find, no shadows to hide. Just me. Alone. A sofa to view the TV and video games to lose my time in. The bar with all its liquid inhabitants and its other little secrets. All accompanied by nothing other than the thump-thumping of the heart in my chest.

Safe. Sound.

But no home was secure. No bed was without a shadow beneath for the monsters to reside.

And indeed, my room was no longer impervious, for I had let the monsters in when I so carelessly leaped through the doorway. And this time, I had been so foolish to turn the lock.I was trapped there with them.

The TV flickered once. Twice. The black of its sleep became a hole so deep into the ground that blackness couldn't compare. There, the monster unfurled, pleased to have found its way into my comfort. The fingers wrapped around the TV frame, creaking, cracking like husks tormented and twisted. A head rose, blackened and indistinct. It was not the face of a mother's child or some godly entity. It was a faceless face. A reflection of an empty shell.

I couldn't look any longer. I was desperate for ignorance to hide the ghoul that had dragged itself into my reality. For comfort, I looked to the bar and its secrets that would usually chase the beast away. But there, sitting on a velvet stool, was a waiting patron shrouded in black.

Echoing laughter drifted into my ears, but I was still all alone.

And, alone, I had no defense. From afar, the clock mocked, tick-tocking to the beat of the black footsteps that approached to engulf me, to wrap spindly claws and gnashing maw around my chest. As I collapsed back to the ground, I could only recall the sound and the sight, the monster trying to break in, the danger of the open door. The claw swallowed my face. Black turned to white.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

"Marco."

Suddenly, I could take control. I reached to grasp the heavy air and lift myself away from the monster that held me to the polished floor.

"Marco!"

I leaped up and threw away the restraint! The ghoul effortlessly crumpled and retreated away from my feet. But I was no longer home. No longer was there a bar or a dead TV. I saw a window hidden partially by the fabric of thin curtains. Moonlight poked through the gaps, casting still shadows across the floor.

"Get them away!" I cried out, pulling my knees to my chest, still so alert to the danger.

"Marco! Snap out of it!"

Jake?

I was not truly there. The mansion was history. I was back in Yellowstone, back on a broken mattress. The sheetst had been flung away, and I shivered in the bitter cold air.

Jake had a hand on my shoulder. His stare was unrelenting. "Dude, wake up!"

"I'm awake," I insisted. "I'm awake."