Victor Yator

Haunted

A DEAFENING SHRILL PIERCED THE CALM OF THE NIGHT like a sword through the ears. I fumbled from my deep sleep and successfully battled to turn on the lightshade beside my bed. A couple more female wails fluttered the entire air so loudly that they could rouse the dead. I had not enough time to even squint; terrific emergencies have a way of zeroing the average time it takes to adjust human vision against abrupt light.