The sudden stillness of the shop was unsettling, and Hannah did her best to quiet her anxieties and slow the rapid beating of her heart in her chest. The young redhead was a fan of horror movies, but it was one thing to watch a group of campers get chased down by a hoard of zombies, or a family be terrorized by a demonic spirit in their attic, but this was real life and things like this weren't supposed to happen. It was too strange to ignore the way the lights had blown after she had cut herself on that book, and her wound was still fresh, still bleeding and stinging—a continuing reminder that something wasn't right.

Her call into the darkness had returned nothing, and Hannah swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. She could see another shadow, although this time she was sure that it was Simon. Clicking her tongue, Hannah called out to the cat, hoping he would come to her and they could run upstairs. There was still a part of her that hoped it was just a fuse, that she could call an electrician to come take a look at everything in the morning and everything would be fine. 

If there was even going to [i]be[/i] a morning.

Shaking her head, Hannah backed up toward the stairs, the old floorboards creaking beneath her feet. If this was anymore cliché, the red-haired girl would have laughed out loud, but she was slightly too petrified to actually make a joke. Suddenly, a streak of orange caught her eye and Simon ran between her legs, darting up the stairs. The tabby seemed startled, as if he too sensed something sinister in the normally calm and easy-going air of the shop. Pursing her lips, Hannah knew that she should have taken a cue from her cat, but she began to get the feeling that she wasn't alone. Standing still, she tilted her head, red curls brushing the tops of her shoulders as she listened closely for any sort of sound.

Then there was something, a smooth voice, almost jovial in her ear and a single word that made her gasp and instinctively, she jammed her elbow back into the stomach of whoever was behind her. Years ago, when she had just barely turned eighteen, her father had talked her into a self defense class. He had always been overprotective of her, ever since her mother died, and Hannah had decided to humor him. The class had been informative and obviously she still remembered a few things, like the location of the solar plexus...or rather, where it should have been; she couldn't help being so short.

After making contact, Hannah sprung forward and gracelessly tripped over her own feet and the book she had dropped to the floor moments before. She crawled forward before turning over and continued to scoot herself back until she could get a better look at the stranger who had invaded her store. What she saw made her pause, although her breathing was rapid as ever, nearly gasping as she studied the man. He looked human, aside from the blackness of his eyes and the elongated, fang-like canines.

On any other day, Hannah would have thought it was a costume, that Halloween had come early, but this was hardly ordinary. “Holy shit,” she breathed, slowly getting to her feet. She was still afraid, but now slightly curious. “What are you?” Hannah took a few steps closer, “who are you? How did you...get in?” 

The door had been locked, Hannah had made sure to lock it behind the guy who brought in that strange book. She looked to the floor, it was still lying there, sullied with her drops of blood, but she easily picked it up and cradled it against her chest.