This is an excerpt from chapter two of my premiere horror novel in progress:

The room grew colder as I began to drift off.

The hairs on my arms stood up. I shook the sleep away.

My breathing turned shallow. Too loud. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it everywhere. In the silence, every sound inside me grew louder.

I was not alone.

The blanket was pulled over my head. Michelle’s head rested next to mine. She breathed slowly, heavily for such a small child. Peaceful. Unaware.

Her breathing scared me.

If I could hear it, so could they.

Something moved.

Not footsteps.

Rats.

In the kitchen. No—closer. The dining room.

Now just beyond the doorway.

I pictured them there. One large one, or several moving together. Listening. Smelling.

Waiting.

Their noses lifted toward us. Toward the bed. Toward the warmth.

Maybe they wanted the blankets. Something soft to tear apart.

Maybe something else.

A toe. A hand.

Something small enough not to wake anyone.

I bit down on my knuckles to stay quiet.

I couldn’t scream.

Not with Mama in the next room.

The furnace vent was too high for them to reach.

We would be fine.

Michelle didn’t move. I could see the outline of her head beneath the blanket. I reached over and pulled it back, exposing her face. Just enough, I hoped, to wake her.

To make her look.

To tell me what was there.

She kept breathing. Slow. Steady.

The heater shut off with a low rumble.

“Go away,” I whispered.

The words barely left my lips.

I turned onto my side, pulling the blanket tight around me, making myself as small as I could. I faced the doorway.

Michelle shifted and rolled over.

My heart dropped.

I hadn’t heard them move.

They were still there.

It wasn’t a person.

Brownie was silent.

I was alone.

And they hadn’t left the doorway….

More to come, this is just a small taste of Winter’s Hell.