by Guy Harrison
###
Sonnet’s heart sank. The sight of the dishwasher had been purgatory. This room, however, meant she was living in her personal hell. As she kept the light fixated on the room’s new occupants, a collective hiss rose from the room. The glowing creatures moved toward the door, faster than any scorpions the couple had ever seen. The hissing grew louder, and a cold draft emanated from the room.
Sonnet stepped back. “Let’s get out of here.”
Joel nodded, “I’ll grab the keys.”
As Joel went down the stairs, Sonnet turned to close the door. The hissing reached ear-piercing peak. Just before the scorpions reached the room’s threshold, Sonnet grabbed the doorknob and pulled.
Instead of the door closing, however, it stood still, as though sucked back by a large vacuum.
“Joel!” she yelled.