spaceThe blinds held shut as the humidity built frivolously. The motion of the night held static upon contrast of the two engaged in full exaggeration. Heavy breaths gasped for the air was dimmer inside than it was from the exterior. Exchanged emotions grew with intensity as the night carried on, and soon there was almost the final push to the breaking point.
"Mother..."
spaceMartin and Pamela Dowell turn around frantically to see a silhoutte of their young son standing before the doorway.
"Mother, the voices are in my closet again. They're talking to me, and I can't go to sleep. They are making weird rumbling sounds and I'm kinda being scared."
"Hang on Angra," says Mrs. Dowell, "and close the door for just a sec."
"But mother-"
"Angra, I'll count down to three and when I get to zero, you can open the door."
spaceAngra does what his mother says and she begins to count down as she and Mr. Dowell put on their bed gowns.
"Sorry honey," she whispers to her husband, "3... 2... 1-"
spaceSuddenly there is a rumbling in the house. First the floor begins to shake, floor boards crackling and soon the windows rattling. Angra opens the door frantically...
"Mother-"
Mrs. Dowell shouts, "Angra, stay in the doorway, it's an earthquake!"
spaceSoon there is a bright light shining through the windows overlooking the bed of Mr. and Mrs. Dowell. Mr. Dowell looks out the window to see what it is. His eyes open drastically, and turns around to his son.
"Angra, run!"
spaceAt that moment the rumbling became a roar and the sounds of a large engine came crashing through the wall with brute force and shoveled down to the foundation of the complex. The burst of air threw Angra clear across the hall through the door into the restroom. At that moment he was knocked out and the whole world became dark...
+Bloodys Corpse+ Community Member 
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