The Voice

When the room went dark, she heard her name. It was ushered in a hushed tone, more than a whisper. It seemed detached with an almost palpable chill resonating from it. Something she sensed more than detected, the eerie spectre's faceless voice made the hair stand straight up on the nape of her long and slender neck. Her sense of dread was instant as though the word DANGER were yelled from the other side of the mansion. And somehow it was familiar.

She reached behind her with both hands and slid back into the dark hoping to steady herself with the security of the sturdy, paneled wall. She sensed the wall and the need to step away from the disembodied voice. “Why her name? Why did the lights go out? Did anyone else hear it?” Her mind raced.