Darkfall

“Sorry, Harry, I didn’t hear what you said,” and his breath smoked out of him in cold white plumes.
    “Just came over the radio,” Harry said. “They want you right away. You and Detective Chandler.”
    “Want us for what?”
    “Looks as if it’s part of this case you’re working on. There’s been more killing. More like this here. Maybe even worse… even bloodier.”
    VII
    Their eyes weren’t at all like eyes should be. They looked, instead, like slots in a furnace grate, providing glimpses of the fire beyond. A silver-white fire. These eyes contained no irises, no pupils, as did human and animal eyes. There was just that fierce glow, the white light from within them, pulsing and flickering.
    The creature on the stairs moved down from the last step, onto the cellar floor. It edged toward Penny, then stopped, stared up at her.
    She couldn’t move back even one more inch. Already, one of the metal shelves pressed painfully across her shoulder blades.
    Suddenly she realized the music had stopped. The cellar was silent. Had been silent for some time. Perhaps for as long as half a minute. Frozen by terror, she hadn’t reacted immediately when Frosty the Snowman was concluded.
    Belatedly she opened her mouth to scream for help, but the piano started up again. This time the tune was Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer , which was even louder than the first song.
    The thing at the foot of the stairs continued to glare at her, and although its eyes were utterly different from the eyes of a tiger, she was nevertheless reminded of a picture of a tiger that she’d seen in a magazine. The eyes in that photograph and these strange eyes looked absolutely nothing alike, yet they had something in common: They were the eyes of predators.
    Even though her vision was beginning to adjust somewhat to the darkness, Penny still couldn’t see what the creatures looked like, couldn’t tell whether they were well-armed with teeth and claws. There were only the menacing, unblinking eyes, adance with white flame.
    In the cellar to her right, the other creatures began to move, almost as one, with a single purpose.
    She swung toward them, her heart racing faster than ever, her breath caught in her throat.
    From the gleam of silvery eyes, she could tell they were leaping down from the shelves where they’d perched.
    They’re coming for me.
    The two on the work table jumped to the floor.
    Penny screamed as loud as she could.
    The music didn’t stop. Didn’t even miss a beat.
    No one had heard her.
    Except for the one at the foot of the stairs, all the creatures had gathered into a pack. Their blazing eyes looked like a cache of diamonds spread on black velvet.
    None of them advanced on her. They waited.
    After a moment she turned to the stairs again.
    Now, the beast at the bottom of the stairs moved, too. But it didn’t come toward her. It darted into the cellar and joined the others of its kind.
    The stairs were clear, though dark.
    It’s a trick.
    As far as she could see, there was nothing to prevent her from climbing the stairs as fast as she could.
    It’s a trap.
    But there was no need for them to set a trap. She was already trapped. They could have rushed her at any time. They could have killed her if they’d wanted to kill her.
    The flickering ice-white eyes watched her.
    Mrs. March pounded on the piano.
    The kids sang.
    Penny bolted away from the shelves, dashed to the stairs, and clambered upward. Step by step she expected the things to bite her heels, latch onto her, and drag her down. She stumbled once, almost fell back to the bottom, grabbed the railing with her free hand, and kept going. The top step. The landing. Fumbling in the dark for the doorknob, finding it. The hallway. Light, safety. She slammed the door behind her. Leaned on it. Gasping.
    In the music room, they were still singing Rudolph the Red- Nosed Reindeer .
    The corridor was deserted.
    Dizzy, weak in the legs, Penny slid down and sat on the floor, her back against the door. She let go of the carry-all. She had been gripping it so tightly that the handle had left its mark across her palm. Her hand ached.
    The song ended.
    Another song began. Silver Bells .
    Gradually, Penny regained her strength, calmed herself, and was able to think clearly. What were those hideous little things? Where did they come from? What did they want from her?
    Thinking clearly wasn’t any help. She couldn’t come up with a single acceptable answer.
    A lot of really dumb