Chapter 2 - The Screams in the Dark
The house was suffocatingly quiet as Nora lay on the plush velvet sofa in the downstairs living room. She kept her eyes open, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft tick of the grand pendulum clock in the foyer. In her right hand, her phone was set to record audio, its tiny red indicator light blinking silently in the dark. Every nerve in her body was raw, vibrating with a terrifying mixture of adrenaline and cold, calculating fury.
At 1:15 AM, the heavy oak front door unlocked with a clumsy click.
Edgar stumbled into the foyer, smelling strongly of cheap bourbon and expensive women’s perfume—a scent Nora had never worn in her life. He reeled against the wall, dropping his leather briefcase onto the marble floor with a dull thud. He didn't even notice Nora lying motionless on the couch under a dark fleece throw blanket.
"Nora?" Edgar slurred toward the empty kitchen. "You awake?"
Silence answered him.
Muttering under his breath, Edgar loosened his silk tie, kicked off his designer shoes—shoes paid for by Nora’s hard-earned company profits—and dragged his feet toward the grand staircase. Nora listened to every single heavy step he took as he ascended toward the master suite.
She held her breath.
Ten seconds passed. Then twenty.
Through the ceiling, Nora heard the soft sound of the master bedroom door opening. She heard Edgar muttering lazily, ripping his shirt off and unbuckling his belt. He was drunk, exhausted, and completely unconcerned with anything other than collapsing onto what he believed was his wife's side of the bed.
Nora heard the bed springs creak as he threw his full body weight down onto the thick comforter, sliding his legs under the top sheet—directly against the pillows where Kristina had carefully arranged the deadly trap.
Two seconds later, a blood-curdling shriek ripped through the upper floor.
"AAGHH! GOD! JESUS CHRIST!"
The scream was followed by the violent, terrifying sound of a dry rattle shaking at blinding speed—a harsh, buzzing vibration that echoed down the stairwell.
"SOMETHING BIT ME! NORA! HELP ME!" Edgar’s voice shattered into hysterical, agonizing screams. "MY LEG! SOMETHING IS ON MY LEG!"
A door slammed open down the hallway. Footsteps sprinted toward the master bedroom. Kristina’s voice shrieked in triumphant excitement before she even reached the room. "Did it happen?! Is she dead?!"
Kristina burst through the master bedroom doorway, a cruel, greedy smile plastered across her face—only to freeze dead in her tracks.
The bedside lamp was knocked over, casting harsh shadows across the room. Edgar was thrashing violently on the carpet, clutching his right thigh, where two deep, bloody puncture wounds were already swelling into a grotesque purple welt. Coiled on top of the ruined comforter, its tail vibrating in a terrifying blur, was a four-foot western diamondback rattlesnake, its fangs dripping with venom, striking aggressively at the air.
"Edgar?!" Kristina gasped, her face draining of every drop of blood. "No... no, no, no! What are you doing in that bed?!"
"Mom!" Edgar sobbed, throwing up blood-laced bile onto the hardwood floor as the neurotoxic venom began attacking his central nervous system. "It bit me! I can't feel my leg! Call an ambulance!"
Kristina stood frozen, her eyes wide with incomprehensible horror. "You... you were supposed to be out drinking! Nora was supposed to sleep in that bed! Nora!"
"I'm right here, Kristina," Nora’s voice rang out, cold and razor-sharp from the doorway.
Kristina whipped around, staring at Nora as if she were a ghost. Nora stood in the doorway, calm, completely composed, holding her phone up to record the entire scene.
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"You..." Kristina stammered, pointing a trembling, glove-stained finger. "You... why aren't you in that bed?!"
"Because I preferred the couch," Nora replied smoothly, her voice utterly devoid of emotion. "And it looks like your son just ate the dinner you cooked for me."
