I lie frozen, sweat beading on my skin, filling my nostrils with a salty tang. I know the time without having to see the clock: midnight, my nightly haunting.
Long fingered shadows creep toward me, inky black, binding me tight like a giant python. The taste of iron floods my mouth.
Shivers race over skin, my heart hammering hard. Still I’m paralysed. Even when those claw tipped fingers wrap around my throat. Even as I begin to choke, gasping for breath.
I concentrate on small movements, I need just one, to break the spell. Just one.
I twitch my finger.