Fright Night — -2011-

Charley jolted awake not from a dream, but from the absence of sound. The Vegas suburbs were never this quiet. No sprinklers. No distant freeway hum. Even the refrigerator’s groan had died. He reached for his phone: 3:33 AM. Dead battery.

Charley picked up his phone. It was fully charged now. 6:02 AM. He scrolled to a contact he’d never thought he’d use again. fright night -2011-

Charley slid out of bed and grabbed the baseball bat—the one with the nail through the barrel, Peter Vincent’s idea. The one he’d laughed at. He didn’t laugh now. Charley jolted awake not from a dream, but

He dove back into his apartment as the marble chamber collapsed into fire and glass and the howl of something older than cities. He slammed his bedroom door and pressed against it until the shaking stopped. No distant freeway hum