Sweet Dreams, by Gordon Lawrie

Amy awoke to knocking on her bedroom window. She’d slept poorly since Matt had left her; tonight’s gale-force winds made things worse.

Assuming that the tapping was merely the wind tapping tree branches against her window, Amy nevertheless rose, defiantly throwing back the curtains.

At first – nothing; then a dark shape emerged from the pitch-black night. She could only see its eyes. Then, with a deep unpleasant laugh, it transformed into Matt.

“Let me in, Amy, please,” said Mark. Entranced, she opened the window.

Next morning Amy’s body was found in bed; every organ had been sucked from her body.


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