THIS IS AN ADVANCED READING COPY

"All at once, the darkness became claustrophobic, with each tense breath she forced herself not to hyperventilate on the stagnant air. The blackness now robbed her best sense and replaced it with a paralyzing fear. Her heart raced as that of “rabbit in a snare.” She could taste the saliva thickening in her mouth to a rancid paste. She closed her eyes, the inky blackness pressed in on her soul. She sensed something; it was only inches from her cheek. The still air that held her face stirred. Was that a finger reaching for her? My God, it was nearly touching her cheek! She couldn’t breathe, it felt as if someone was choking her. Then, the silence was instantly severed, ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling. Martha’s heart stopped momentarily, that was not Duke! It couldn’t be! That was enough for her, she bolted like a young child frightened of what was under the bed and ran as fast as she could up the stairs, directly into the soothing illumination of her bedroom. She slammed the door shut. As she bolted the door, she finally could exhale. At her age, this was a bit much. Her hands were shaking, was it just her imagination? Could there be someone or something hiding within the darkness? No, it was all her imagination. Then she faintly heard something slowly brushing up against the bolted door. It was feeling, reaching for her–trying to sense her fright. Martha backed as far as she could away from the door, she cowered in the corner. Her fear was feeding the darkness.”