Tom called in a loud whisper from downstairs. "Honey, the police are here. Come get Chucky. We don't want him to wake up and get upset again."
Marsha gave the pastor a half smile and turned. "I'll be right back," she said.
As she descended Hansen glanced around the darkened room, dark being a relative term. The street lamp and night light illumined pictures of puppies and a toy-strewn floor. He heard muffled voices from below and footsteps on the staircase, ascending with a clump-clump-clump - mother and son drawing near.
Suddenly he felt it, the rush of breathable air from the room, the popping of his ears and the blurring of vision. All this he could have explained, but the rest he could not. He felt his heart about to explode from the unrelenting emotions of despair and rage - a madn
