He lay in bed, unable to sleep. This was quite uncommon for him, seeing as he was always out by 10 o'clock. The darkness was strange, tangible, as if he could reach out his hand and grab some. It seemed suffocating and thick.

A scratching sounded at the door.

The demons were back, and they wanted in.

He head snapped toward the closed door, watching for any sign of an entry. His breath became shallow and rattled in his chest. It sounded so loud. But no matter how hard he tried to calm himself, his hands still shook on the sheets.

The door creaked open, revealing a dark figure. It was hunched over, with no discernible details. The monster slinked into the room, the door closing quietly behind it. He lost sight of it as it blended into the darkness.

Suddenly, twin imprints appeared on the bed in the shape of clawed feet. The man scrambled into a sitting position, scooting back as far as the headboard would allow him. One dent disappeared…only to appear a few inches closer. The invisible figure walked on the bed until it stood right over the man.

Suppressing a scream, the man threw himself off the bed and crashed to the floor. He looked on in horror as the moon moved out from behind a cloud, shining through the window and illuminating the outline of the creature that now occupied his bed.

Another creature lunged out from the bottom of the bed, landing on top of the man. Its talons cut into his skin, drawing blood that stained the floor. The man shrieked, batting at the demon with his fists.

He finally managed to shove the weight from his chest and stood, running for the door. The monsters howled and bounded after him.

…

A mile away, another man lounged on his couch with a bowl of popcorn in hand. The room was dark save for the flickering TV, which displayed an old sitcom. He laughed and turned the volume up, missing the opening and closing of the front door. His hand dug into the popcorn.

A commercial came up and he turned the channel to the news. There was a grave-looking man talking into an earpiece—it seemed to be an important conversation. Then he looked back to the camera. "Good evening folks. This is an important message from the St. John Mental Hospital and Asylum. We have just been informed that a very dangerous patient, Michael Hale, has escaped from his room. Investigators have inferred that he jumped through the window, surviving the two story fall. We believe he is injured, but his whereabouts are still unknown. If you see this man," A picture of the haggard patient appeared on the screen. "please call this number. And a word of caution—this man has been known to be a danger to himself and others."

He took another bite of popcorn and switched back to the sitcom. His eyes remained glued to the screen.

He didn't notice the limping figure that was shuffling up behind him, holding a knife.

"Die, demon," the figure hissed.