I could tell something was wrong as soon as I got up, so I got my revolver out of the safe before going around to check all the windows and doors. From the kitchen window I saw the hunched monstrosity, perched on a tree stump. It's gnarled, caricatures of hands danced over the keys of a gore splattered lap top computer.
I woke up my husband, brought him to the window, and pointed out into the woods.
“Honey, you see what I'm seeing?” I asked.
“Yes.” he said, rolling his eyes.
“That's why we need to password protect the wifi.”