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A low rumble from the ground moves along the floor, cabinet to drawer and then from drawer to window. But it wont go outside, it stays inside, not afraid of the dark but searching for something. It has a sense of rhythm to it if you listen closely, replicating that of a human heart. Contracting and expanding, almost sounding like someone gasping for their life as fluid fills up in their lungs. The terror doesn’t creak the floors, it only makes the sound it creates. A staircase is found, every step is a step closer to the goal. Carefully, it makes it way up the wooden steps, and another sound interferes. That of a snoring, more like a light wheezing. The door is half open, slowly it pushes the door open. And there it is, it’s chest expanding and contracting, like a human heart. It’s breathing light and slow. Should it be woken? The creature lays there, engulfed in darkness, oblivious and unaware. It could at any moment take it’s last breath, it could at any moment make it’s last contraction. But should the creature not succumb to the darkness, would it then appreciate the light? It would never know the terror of the anomaly standing over it. The wheezing becomes louder, it starts gasping for air. Something is happening, what is happening? The moonlight is shining through the window, there is still some light. It bends down and flips a mirror up so the light can reflect it. It shines onto the bed, suddenly the light seems powerful. It’s bright, too much to handle, the anomaly wants to get out. But before it goes it needs to take it’s victim. It moves up to the bed again, looking on the sleeping creature. The creature seems more calm now, it’s breath is lighter, it’s skin is shining. The contractions are no longer cruel, there are no more contractions. Just pulsating waves, up and down, slowly and smoothly repeating itself. Something is off, and it goes out the door, the rumble disappears and the door is half-closed again. Nobody would know.
