Could they see us in the deep darkness, our backs pressed against the stone wall? The bats fluttered up over the open coffins. Their flapping wings glistened, silvery in the moonlight. I heard a rattling, like the warning sound of a snake. But the rattling quickly became a hiss. The bats opened their mouths, revealing pointed yellow fangs—and hissed. What a sound! A shrill, angry whistle that rose higher, higher, until it drowned out the patter of their fluttering wings. A hiss of attack. They were awake and ready now. Ready to swoop at me, to knock me to the floor, to dig those pointed fangs deep into my skin. And drink… drink… “Freddy—!” Cara cried. She raised her hands in front of her to shield her face. “Freddy—!” The shrill hissing surrounded me. Seemed to be coming from inside my head. I covered my ears, trying to shut it out. Covered my ears. Watched their red, glowing eyes—and waited for the attack. But to my shock, the hissing bats didn’t swoop toward us.
