When Angie woke again, the darkness was breathing.
Her hearing, grown more acute in the absence of sight, caught the sound of wavering respiration. Then, there was whispering, the words inaudible.
I’m going crazy...
The darkness started to hum. What began as a tuneless drone soon evolved into a melody Angie recognized.
“…my life…with his words…killing me softly…killing me softly…with his words…”
“Who’s there?” Angie asked the singing blackness.
“Oh, hello,” said a familiar voice. Angie struggled to recall the name of the childlike woman that had clung to Grady when they first arrived.
“Who…who are you?” Angie asked.
The darkness giggled. “Silly, it&rsq...
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