That night Hazel experienced her recurring childhood nightmare for the first time in a good while. Unlike the night terrors of her childhood, everything happened in chronological order so the sounds didn't all swirl together like a horrible melody. It was simply a replaying of her memory.
Ever since the night terrors stopped the dream had changed. Not only did the overlap stop, there was a part of the memory that stuck in her head longer. The way the murderer looked at her after killing her mother.
That look pierced through to her very core. The man smiled at her—actually smiled!—as Hazel clung to her mother's body with blood still dripping off of the knife he used to kill her.
He said something too but she could never remember what. She could see his lips moving over those horribly crooked teeth but could never comprehend what was being said. That was always the point where she woke up in a cold sweat.
