It was the sound of his mother's voice calling his name, echoing out across the calm, evening waters of Lake Erie behind the summer cottage. It was the sound of his younger brothers, laughing wildly in the way of carefree children.
But the air was still and dark like the absence of moonlight as Billy took a cautious step, cutting through shadows, hands outstretched to feel for... something. His feet were bare and the floor beneath them smooth and cold, like bathroom tiles in the early morning. A shudder twitched through the base of his spine.]
Hello?
[The sound of his own voice came from far-away for a second, lingering, and then it sharpened along with the dark edges of shapes that loomed out of the black. Billy's heartbeat fluttered faster in his throat, and a white-blue spark crackled over the skin of his palm quicker than a blink.]