Twenty-TwoAngela sat, rewriting The Legend of Hell House in her head, under siege in the dark in that house of horrors. Those trapped with her, all afternoon and into the night, no doubt felt it too. Ravenous eyes, hungry gaping mouths, hands melted into claws threatening, waiting for them. Their survival lay in keeping the creatures out. While their sanity hung on the hope that one among them could somehow conjure an escape. The situation, a nightmare from the Outer Limits, was horrible and damned near hopeless. Amazingly, it was also horribly dull.
That was the awful dichotomy, at least in Angela's mind. The doors were locked, windows blocked, and they were as secure as could be in that setting. Nothing remained for her, or her compatriots, to do but simply go numb. It was an Irish wake
