"Samantha?"Samantha heard the voice, but it sounded like it came from a great distance, and it was distorted, so it sounded like someone was saying, "...am and the?" Samantha?"That time the voice, was much clearer and closer. Samantha's eyes slowly opened. She was back in the cabin, laying on the couch in the living room. Abby was kneeling on one knee next to her, her face a mask of concern for her daughter. She had a cold, damp washcloth held to Samantha's forehead. It felt good. Erin stood at. Everything – everything – looked like it simply stopped mid breath, and froze. One of the easiest things for him to figure out, once he got the hang of it, was finding the rats. Details, like their tiny (and sometimes not so tiny) hand, and footprints led him to places they frequented, and sometimes, upon them in the act of haunting a duct, or a dank corner. There were no prints in the dust. No skittering in the walls, or through the ceiling. Here, the dust settled evenly, and the only. More

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