It was a heavy, deliberate footstep.
Thump.
Dust filtered down from the floorboards over my head.
Thump.
Another step. Slow. Wet. Heavy.
I looked up at the ceiling, tracing the sound with my flashlight. The footsteps were moving across the kitchen floor. They were heading toward the pantry.
"No," I breathed.
The realization hit me like a shovel to the face. The ink in the vent… the noise… it was a distraction. A lure.
I had walked right into the trap. I had left the only thing that mattered upstairs, barricaded in a closet, defenseless.
Squelch. Thump.
The thing was heavy. The floorboards groaned in protest. It sounded like a side of beef being dragged across the wood.
"Lily," I choked out.
I spun around and sprinted for the stairs. I didn't care about the noise anymore. I didn't care about stealth.
I took the stairs two at a time, my boots slamming against the wood. I burst through the doorway into the mudroom, the hammer raised high, ready to swing at anything that moved.
The kitchen was empty.
The wind rattled the windows, but the room was silent.
I shone the light frantically around the space. The island. The stove. The pantry door.
The chair I had wedged under the knob was gone. It had been tossed aside, lying on its side near the fridge, one leg splintered.
The pantry door was wide open.
"Lily!" I screamed.
I ran to the pantry. Empty. The bag of rice was tipped over, white grains spilled across the floor like snow. My phone was lying face down in the rice, the flashlight app still glowing, illuminating nothing.
Panic, cold and absolute, flooded my veins. It felt like I was drowning. The room spun.
Check the living room. Check the living room.
I stumbled out of the kitchen, swinging the beam of light wildly.
"Lily! Answer me!"
I rounded the corner into the living room.
And I stopped.
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.