Thunder struck outside, and Amy jumped out of her chair. She was terrified sitting alone in the house alone. It hadnâ€™t seemed so big when she and Toby came to look at it last fall. It belonged to a couple who had both passed away earlier that year. Amy and Toby fell in love with the house from the moment they laid eyes on it. The master bedroom had a large window that looked out over the front lawn. Next to it were French doors leading out to a wrought iron balcony. A white washed porch encompassed the first floor of the house, its rails intertwined with white roses that blessed the thick summer air with their sweet aroma. .
â€œIt had seemed so welcoming then.â€ Amy thought to herself as she arose from the chair, wearily getting ready for bed. She pulled one of her husbandâ€™s old fraternity sweaters from one of the many boxes that were spread across the room and put it on. Amy laughed to herself as she passed by her reflection in the antique vanity mirror; the shirt hung from her small frame almost reaching down to her knees, and her long auburn hair was piled carelessly upon her head. Another crash of thunder sent her diving childishly to the safety of the king size, four post bed where she pulled the lavish wine colored duvet up over her head. .
â€œToby will be here tomorrow.â€ she reassured herself, â€œHeâ€™ll be here tomorrow.â€ .
She fell into an uneasy sleep with the lights still on. Amy hadnâ€™t spent a night away from her husband since they had been married eighteen months ago. The mere thought of him not being beside her haunted her subconscious as she slept.
It was dark outside when Amy awoke, a wash of pale blue moonlight spilled into the bedroom. Slowly Amy eased herself out of the warmth of the immense bed and made her way towards the hallway. The hall was dimly lit with candles and it seemed to go on forever, the glow of amber from the candles faded as she followed them down into the dark â€œcaveâ€.