“What?”
I glanced up from the brush coated in black polish ready to cover my fingernail.
I stared at the screen.
Where the ‘Saturday Night’ show had been, a ghostly version of a bloodied hand filled the screen. I swallowed.
In that moment Aliyah screamed as the hideous limb reached out from beyond the screen to grasp her slim, pale neck as she twisted and writhed whilst I remained motionless, in shock.
The hand withdrew.
Aliyah was still.
So was I. I was oblivious to the black polish trickling over the carpet, mixing with the red……
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