He woke up to the text message. He figured that he was still dreaming after he read it, because what he had read couldn’t be true, it didn’t make any sense. Rolling over, he pulled the covers over his head and kept on dreaming. It was just that the wind that was now making his feet feel cold felt too real to be a dream. He couldn’t get the message out of his mind.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked at his phone again. It stubbornly still said the same thing. It just didn’t make sense. Realizing that he really was awake and feeling his pulse start to increase, he sat up and took some deep breaths. No need to get freaked out yet, he could find a way to solve this. He couldn’t let himself lose control. There had to be a way this could make sense.

He started to think of how to respond, but was only drawing blanks. What could this possibly mean? He got up and started to pace around the room. How could this be happening? Who could he contact to try to help? Did he need to leave? Who could he even trust? Why was this happening at all, and what did it mean for humanity?

The phone buzzed again. He read the message. It was an autocorrect. She had meant to write that her dear mother was going to stay for a week, not that her dead mother was going to slay once awakened. Oops.