I feel sweat bead against the soft skin of my neck as the door to my office opens. In a flash it’s gone. Fuck. Where did it go? My daughter Tessa leans against the door frame, meeting my eyes across the wide desk. I hear her mutter something about dinner being ready, and I hear the faint sound of dishes clattering drifting through the open door. My mind wont focus; my heart pounds in my chest. I know it’s still here but where did it go? I hear Tessa mutter something else, but I can’t hear her over the rushing in my ears. I force myself to take my first breath of the past few minutes and concentrate. My eyes finally focus on my daughter and I can see she seems to be waiting for something. I clear my throat softly. “I’m sorry, what?” She rolls her eyes, repeating herself. “Mom wants to know if you closed the sale yet.” I sort through my hazy brain, trying to process her words. Right. The sale. “No not yet,” I say unsteadily, trying to shake off the remnants of the last few minutes. Maybe I imagined it, I think. Too many hours at the office without enough sleep. That must be it. That’s when I notice it. It starts as just a black smudge at the edge of my vision, slowly unfurling itself into something bigger. Other. I realize Tessa has asked me another question, and I once again try to concentrate on her face. I can still see the edge of it, enveloping the ceiling corner of my office, just above the door. Tessa gives me a look as she realizes I’ve once again zoned out of the conversation. Please don’t look up. “Are you alright dad?” She takes a small step farther into the room. The billowing edge of the darkness is just above her head now, a mere foot away from the top of her head. I shift my eyes slightly above her, looking into the face of the creature staring back at me. It wants me, I can feel it. I’m sure of it. The precious balance keeping it from taking me is what remains uncertain. What I can only assume is its mouth begins to open, a long tongue unfurling from its ebony depths. I can see thick strands of inky saliva spread from its mouth. Oh god. Please don’t look up. I shift my eyes back to Tessa’s. “I’m fine.” She gives me a disbelieving look, opening her mouth to respond when something wet and black hits her shoulder. She glances at it, reaching up to touch the stain on her sweater. I see confusion cloud her face, as she slowly begins to tilt her chin upward. “DON’T” I yell, and her eyes flash to my face. The room is still for a moment as I hope I haven’t upset the fragile stillness of the creature in the corner. But I know. It’s me it wants. “Tessa,” I say quietly, “whatever you do, don’t look up.” Her eyes widen at my words, but she holds still. “Honey, I want you to go to the kitchen, get your mother, and leave the house right now. Can you do that for me?” She looks like she wants to speak, but the look on my face silences her. Instead, she slowly nods her head. “Good girl, now go get you mother, close the door behind you, and remember I love you both very much.” I smile softly at her as she backs out of the room, the door latch clicking closed after her. I pick up a pen and scroll a simple note across the file on my desk: Don’t open the box. Then I look up, into the waiting eyes of the creature across the room, and touch my cool hand to the gaping lid of the mahogany chest.