Carolyn lunged for a brass lamp on the nightstand when a hand with wiry fingers the color of ash came up and clenched her wrist.She winced as decaying fingernails dug into her skin.
She yanked her hand back and the brittle arm snapped in two in a puff of gray dust.Someone - or something - was pulling itself out from under the bed, tugging at the sheets with its remaining hand.
Hands crawled across the ripples of sheets from all corners of the bed like crabs on an ocean floor.She closed her eyes tightly. It's not real. Not real. Not real.Scroll up and grab a copy today.