You feel it first, as the thunder claps about you. You can't put your finger on the sensation, beyond the build up of panic that wells in your bones. Your breath quickens, your fingers tighten about the bedding as you threaten to coil it over your head. You don't know why and yet ... deep in your beating, quivering heart you know.

And then you hear it, between the claps of Thunder

Tap, Tap, Tap

Tap, Tap, Tapity-Tap

Tap, Tap-Tapity-Tapity-Tap

Tap-Tap-Tap

Tap-Tap-Tap

/thud/

And you know what it's doing. Testing the glass of the window, testing for the weakness that is there. Tapping over the edges of the glass from left to right, to top to bottom, to get in.

To you.

And you curse yourself. Knowing that in your haste to hop into bed, to turn off the lights and drift off to sleep you've left a gap in your curtains. Small. Miniscule. But it's enough. Enough to tempt you to peek, enough to make you want to open them and see enough ...

The flash of an amber eye is seen, illuminated by the flash of lightning.

You gasp. You quiver, you shake. And you realise /it can see you/

Its amber eyes, it horrific, slit like amber eye is focused on you glistening int he moon light and you know that you are done for.

A long, gnarled finger reaches up, nail long, yellowing and twisted as it scrapes down the pane of glass, etching itself into it. It taps, knowing you can see it ... knowing you can sense it and hear it and knowing that it has your fear.

/And it drinks it up/

There is no escape, now, you know, as paralysed in fear you watch it. Keeping your eye glued in on that horrific amber eye. When, with a sinking sensation of dread you swear you hear it chuckle, you swear you hear it laugh ...

And then, a clap of thunder and a flash of light.

Like a spider hiding from it's prey ... it is gone.

And you know, you can never step foot into the dead of night.

If you do, you doubt that you will see the light of day again.