click… click… click
He opened his eyes. What the ****! What the hell was making that sound?
He turned on the bedside lamp it almost exploded before going dark. In that brief flash of light he saw her, crouching on the floor, about to strike.
It was not a human, its hands were like the claws of some lobster or sea creature, its hair was matted, clinging to its skull, the small tattered frock clinging to its body was an exact replica of his last victim.
The young woman he trapped with his stunning looks and tortured to death in his little cabin in woods. He buried her with his own hands, left a branch of wildflowers on the grave. She was so pretty and innocent, just like those flowers!
A hissing sound told him he saw the thing alright, he tried to turn on the other bedside lamp but something landed on him before that. A body cold like ice and wet, slippery.
A pair of hands closed down on his windpipe.