The cries burst through static on the new baby monitor clear as day. I stared at the empty battery compartment.
The peeling paint on the walls of the abandoned hospital proved no one had been here for years. The arm restraints on the gurney bit into my wrists as I struggled to get free.
“That banging you hear is just the vents popping as they heat up,” he stated. “I don’t give warnings,” he whispered from underneath my bed.
The burglar dropped his knife and ran in fear as I raised the bat. I didn’t realize he was looking behind me.
The crowd rewarded me with thunderous applause as I finished singing. I could see shapes moving in the bathroom through the shower curtain.