My room was pitch black as the electricity supply had been cut. The screaming had stopped but the floorboards creaked. Before the silence I had heard someone cry out, “He’s got an axe!” I heard the sound of dripping. Was it blood falling from the axe? Sounds like scrapping came from the direction of the door. I cowered on my bed pulling the blankets around me. Then I heard a voice.
It was a raspy male voice which spoke in a whisper. “Open the door, Dorothy. And it will be over quickly.”
There was a pause while he waited for a response which I dare not give.
“If you do not comply I will use my knife and not the axe.”
Another pause followed.
“It will be slower. First I will cut your vocal cords so you cannot hear yourself scream when I cut you open. I have a light with me so you will see everything that happens to you. You will see your internal organs as you die but open the door and I will use the axe. Any pain will soon be gone.
It was if I was in a bad dream. But I was not.