The breeze yelled through the broke window of the old lodge, conveying with it a weak, practically impalpable murmur. Sarah froze, her breath getting in her throat. She had been distant from everyone else for quite a long time, or so she thought. The fire in the hearth had dwindled to ashes, projecting long, flashing shadows across the room.

"Hi?" she called out, her voice shudder. Once more, the murmur returned, gentler this time, similar to a mystery implied exclusively for her. It appeared to come from all over the place and no place at the same time, winding through the air like a snake.

She grasped the sweeping more tight around her shoulders, her eyes dashing to the edges of the room. The murmur became stronger, more persistent, however she was unable to make out the words. It was a language she didn't have the foggiest idea, old and throaty, loaded up with a vindictiveness that caused her hair to stand on end.

"Who's there?" she requested, her voice breaking. The fire faltered, and the room dove into dimness. The murmur turned into a chorale, encompassing her, squeezing in from all sides. She staggered in reverse, her heart beating in her chest.

And afterward she felt it - a chilly breath on the rear of her neck, the slightest hint of fingers brushing against her skin. She twirled around, however there was nothing there. The murmurs became stronger, more critical, until they were shouting in her ears. She applauded over them, however the sound was inside her head, tunneling profound into her psyche.

At the point when the quiet at last returned, Sarah was presently not the only one. The shadows had come to fruition, framing a figure that stood still toward the edge of the room. Its eyes gleamed faintly, and lips moved in time with the murmurs actually reverberated to her.

She attempted to shout, yet no sound emerged. The figure ventured forward, its structure moving and squirming like smoke. It connected a hand, and she felt herself being pulled toward it, her feet hauling across the floor as though the very air had gone to molasses.

The last thing she heard was the murmur, clear and indisputable this time: "That is no joke."

And afterward there was just dimness.