When she heard the sound of scrabbling under her bed she gaped in horror. The roof was no longer there and the sky was crammed with stars. The yellow lamplight had its neck twisted and the light was dimming, a dark hairy whisker of shadow creeping up to swallow everything. The sliver of light coming in through the parting curtain was the only thing remotely consolatory in the creepy hotel reminiscent of horror movies, old and new. The wooden cabinet shook and the drawers slid out, one after the other, like the many tongues of a hysterical creature of the nights. The clothes hanger slid to a side and revealed the crack in the wall beyond. She tried the light switch but obviously it was not working. The bedspread was damp from something that was not hers – an ache spread through her limbs, paralyzing her, bolting her spine to the cot. A whiff of chill air snaked through the open fisheye hooks of her blouse, circling her rigid frame, raising the hair on the back of her nec