There was a rapid scurrying noise in the corridor outside their bedroom in the dark. Shadows darted along the walls, though no one moved, stretching long and thin as if the house itself breathed. A guttural whisper rose from the hallway, making them stiffen with dread.
The temperature plunged suddenly, their breath blooming in pale clouds. Windows opened and banged shut in rapid succession, echoing like cannon fire down the corridor. They heard people talking. For a fleeting second, what seemed like a face flickered and disappeared.
They clutched each other, whispering frantic arguments about leaving. Pride tangled with terror. The mansion was worth millions, a prize they believed they deserved. But every creak in the floorboards convinced them the house was being burgled, and that they might become collateral if they stayed.