The shadows in her room were filled with demons, insubstantial creatures that mocked and threatened from the safety of the gathering darkness. shirley swallowed and slowly reached under her pillow.
Her fingers touched the blade of the old silver knife she'd left hidden there, and cold fire leaped across her skin. The demons fled the shadows, and the room became her own again.
Shifting slightly, she turned on the bedside lamp. Pale light filled the room, but did little to ease the fear sitting like a rock in the pit of her stomach. If Flinch could haunt her dreams and send images to taunt her, could he do more? Could he somehow control her?
She raised the knife still clenched in her hand. Light reflected brightly off its tarnished surface. It was part of an old setting she'd found in a second hand shop some time ago. She had no idea how much silver the knife actually contained, and no idea if it would be of any use against Flinch.
