Сияние

Redrum

           

           Shehadgonetotheheatingventandhadplacedherearagainstit,butatthatexactmomentthefurnacehadcomeon,andanysoundwaslostintherushofwarmaircomingupfromthebasement.Whenthefurnacehadkickedoffagain,fiveminutesago,theplacewascompletelysilentexceptforthewind,thegrittyspatterofsnowagainstthebuilding,andtheoccasionalgroanofaboard.

           Shelookeddownatherrippedfingernail.Smallbeadsofbloodwereoozingupfrombeneathit.

           (lack’sgottenout.)

           (Don’ttalknonsense.)

           (Yes,he’sout.He’sgottenaknifefromthekitchenormaybethemeatcleaver.He’sonhiswayuphererightnow,walkingalongthesidesoftheriserssothestairswon’tcreak.)

           (!You’reinsane!)

           Herlipsweretrembling,andforamomentitseemedthatshemusthavecriedthewordsoutloud.Butthesilenceheld.

           Shefeltwatched.

           Shewhirledaroundandstaredatthenight-blackenedwindow,andahideouswhitefacewithcirclesofdarknessforeyeswasgibberinginather,thefaceofamonstrouslunaticthathadbeenhidinginthesegroaningwallsallalong-

           Itwasonlyapatternoffrostontheoutsideoftheglass.

           Sheletherbreathoutinalong,susurratingwhisperoffear,anditseemedtoherthatsheheard,quiteclearlythistime,amusedtittersfromsomewhere.

           (You’rejumpingatshadows.

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