"Well, it looks like we're about done here," Micky commented as he entered the house. The kitchen, living room, and dining room were all furnished. The upstairs bedroom and guest room were almost completed. And the third upstairs room was remaining empty for the time being.
"Good timing," Mike agreed. He and Peter had come with Micky to bring over some last minute things, like blankets, kitchen supplies, a shower curtain, and some other essentials.
The wedding was planned for the following week. Micky and Jenny had made most of the plans, and prepared to spend a week or so honeymooning in their new house before Micky had to buckle down and finish work on their album. In fact, at that very moment, she was out having the final alterations made to her wedding dress.
"Are you nervous about moving in here?" Peter asked.
"A little," Micky replied. "But I'm trying not to think about it."
Mike nodded in agreement as he entered the kitchen with a few shopping bags full of pots and pans. "Good plan," he replied. "But you should still be on guard."
"I know," Micky assured him. "That's why I don't go over here alone anymore. And after we move in, we're gonna try to keep it like that. At least for a little while."
"But what happens when you start working again?" Mike asked. His voice was muffled as he peered inside the empty cabinets, searching for the best place to put the pots.
"And when you we go on the road again," Peter added, handing Mike a frying pan.
Micky shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted.
"You can't go on being afraid of your house," Mike pointed out, pulling his head out of a cabinet long enough to take the pan from Peter.
"I know," Micky agreed. "But I really don't know what else to do." He sighed and sat down at his new kitchen table.
When they're all alone, that's when I'll strike. No more hiding out for me. No. As soon as they've let their guard down, I'll strike.
Their wedding night.
They'll be distracted by each other. I'll get them then. I'll really get them. And that old man won't be able to do a thing.
"Are you sure it looks okay?" Micky asked, turning around to look at himself in the full length mirror.
"It looks great," Davy agreed. Mike nodded as well. The two of them were helping Micky prepare for his wedding the next day. He was trying on his tuxedo in the bedroom of his new house.
"Man, I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Micky commented as he adjusted his bowtie.
Mike patted him on the back. "You'll be just fine," he assured. "Right Davy?"
Davy didn't say anything. Mike turned to see why. "Davy?" he asked.
Davy was staring, wide eyed, at the full length mirror. "What's the matter, Davy?" Micky asked. He looked at the mirror, but saw nothing but his own reflection.
Davy didn't respond right away. He blinked once, then twice. "Someone's here," he whispered in a low voice.
Mike immediately looked around. "Who? Where?" he demanded.
"I'm not sure," Davy answered in the same low voice. His big brown eyes were the size of quarters. He turned to Mike, his eyes huge. "Can you feel it?"
"Davy, you're starting to creep me out," Micky warned, his voice shaking.
Mike agreed. "I think there's something here," he told Micky. "Something really - weird. But I don't know what."
There was a howling noise from outside that sent a chill down everyone's spine. Micky ran to the bedroom window and shut it with a slam just as the wind began to pick up. It was only just after sunset, but the sky became ominously dark. It was clear a storm was brewing.
"I hope it's not mad," Micky whispered in low, squeaky voice.
"I dunno," Mike replied. Suddenly, there was a loud crash and the lights went out.
Suddenly, Davy snapped out of his trance-like state. "The window!" he shouted. He ran to the window Micky had just closed.
"Davy, don't!" Micky warned, but Davy paid no attention. He flung open the window and stuck his head out into the violent wind.
"'Ey! You!" he shouted. Mike ran up beside the diminutive singer and looked over his shoulder. A shadowy figure was making its way up the side of the house.
"Hey!" Mike shouted. He turned away from the window and ran out of the room. Micky followed.
"Mike? Where are you going?" he shouted as he ran behind him. Mike didn't answer, he just ran. He ran down the stairs and out the front door.
"Hey!" Mike shouted again as he ran around the side of the house.
"Mike! Wait up!" Micky shouted. There was a flash of lightning. Micky could see a dark figure jump off the side of his house. There was another flash and he could see the figure make its way through the neighbor's yard. "Hey! You!" Micky called, but the figure paid no attention.
"Keep…chasing…it!" Mike panted from somewhere ahead of him, still running.
"I can't even see where I'm going!" Micky protested, but ran as well. There was another flash of lightning, and he saw Mike trip over something. "Mike? You okay?" he asked, running up to him.
"Don't worry about me!" Mike shouted, a little too loudly. "Get him!"
"But Mike - I," Micky protested.
"Just get him!" Mike shouted, a flash of lightning striking at just that moment.
"Okay, okay," Micky agreed grudgingly. He turned and ran in the direction the fleeing trespasser had gone. His tuxedo tails flailing behind him in the wind, he huffed and puffed through the next yard and out to the street.
Micky paused when he reached the sidewalk and looked both ways. The street was empty and silent. There was no one there.
