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Out of the Box

The dreams were becoming more frequent, more intense. Every night, Mercy dreamed that she was stuck in that box, and then the shadow man appeared above her, and she screamed louder, and then she woke up. Most nights, it brought August running to her room, rocking her, until she was calm again. She’d usually manage to fall back to sleep, but it was always a fitful, restless sleep.

Isabell had offered her some sleeping medicine. Mercy had been tempted to take it, but ultimately, she’d passed. It wasn’t that she didn’t think it would help; she was pretty sure it would. She just didn’t like the idea of it putting her into such a deep sleep that she couldn’t wake herself up, in which case she might end up stuck in the dream that had been tormenting her for weeks.

Then one night, the dream changed. Rather than Mercy waking up the moment she saw the man’s face, she screamed, but he reached down, grabbed her hair, and pulled her out of the box by that hunk of hair. The pain radiated all throu
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