Most of the lights in the lobby were off, but Mrs. Jameson was still awake; light from her room illuminated the short hallway leading to it. Derek mounted the stairs, step by tired step, then walked down the hall to his room. He unlocked the door and twisted the knob, only faintly realizing a tingling sensation in his hand, and stopped with the door half open. There was a light on somewhere in the room. But they had all been off when he had left… It was dim, but he could make out the outline of his window and the cheap lithograph mountain scene on the far wall. It was coming from somewhere near the bed. He let the door swing open slowly, keeping his muscles tense, ready to leap through the ceiling if anything moved. It took him a moment to realize the light was coming from the nightstand. Not from the lamp, but somewhere lower, on the surface of the stand. It was coming from the piece of metal laying there. The axe bit. It was about as bright as one of those nightlights mothers buy for their children, the ones with the cartoon characters.
