The lamp wouldn't turn on. Of all the times for the bulb to burn out, it had to be right now? The noises were getting closer and closer to Sam's bed. Whatever they were, they weren't human.

Sure, it was most likely just the wind -- or something equally silly. All Sam needed was half a second of light to confirm that theory, and he'd sleep happily. But no, he couldn't have that. Instead all he had was his imagination to build horrific images for every creak and thud he'd heard all night.