Chapter 6
The darkness slammed down on us like a physical weight. Outside, the rain began to lash against the glass pane with sudden, violent fury. I froze, my hand hovering mid-air near the edge of the wooden crib where little Leo was beginning to stir again, sensing our collective panic.
"Mark? The light switch!" I called out, my voice trembling as I fumbled blindly in the pitch blackness, trying to find the wall. "Someone just cut the power from the hallway breaker box!"
A heavy rustling sound came from the corner of the nursery near the large wooden armoire. It sounded like thick fabric dragging across the hardwood floor, accompanied by the slow, deliberate scuff of a heavy shoe.
"Who's there?" Elena shouted into the void, her voice laced with sharp, uncharacteristic terror. "Mark, grab her! She's trying to make a break for it in the dark!"
"Shut up, Elena!" Mark roared back, his athletic frame crashing against a piece of furniture as he stumbled across the room in the dark. I heard the sharp thud of his hand hitting the wall, followed by the metallic clatter of a metal lamp tipping over and smashing against the baseboard. "I can't see a damn thing! Clara, where are you?"
"I'm right here by the crib!" I yelled back, stretching my arms out until my fingertips brushed the smooth wooden slats of Leo's bed. I pulled my baby close to my chest, lifting him out of the crib despite the danger, wrapping my navy sweatshirt around his tiny, shivering body. "Mark, someone locked the door from the outside! We're trapped!"
A sudden, blinding flash of lightning split the night sky outside the window, illuminating the nursery in a stark, flickering white glare. In that split-second flash of light, I saw it.
Standing right beside the bedroom door, half-concealed in the shadow of the armoire, was a tall figure wearing a dark hooded raincoat. In their gloved hand, they held a heavy brass padlock, which they had just clicked shut over the exterior latch of our door.
"There! By the door!" I shrieked, pointing blindly into the shadows as the room plunged back into absolute darkness.
Mark lunged toward the sound of my voice, his powerful stride carrying him across the nursery with terrifying speed. I heard the impact of his fists hitting solid wood, followed by a muffled grunt as he slammed shoulder-first against the heavy paneling of the bedroom door.
"Open this door! Whoever you are, open it right now!" Mark bellowed, his shoulder striking the wood again with a bone-rattling crash. The old wooden frame groaned, but the heavy brass padlock held firm.
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Behind us, a soft, mechanical click echoed from the floor right beside the crib.
I held my breath, clutching little Leo tightly against my beating heart, as a small, glowing digital timer began to beep rhythmically from inside our discarded diaper bag on the floor.
