Kyle woke with a start. He had just had his first nightmare since he was a young

child.  Kyle dreamt that his house was broken into by a group of large, dark figures wearing black clothes concealing their faces. The intruders didn’t speak a word, they made no intentional noise, the only audible sound Kyle heard was the sound of their footsteps. They did not speak or communicate to each other in any way. They moved as if a trained unit scouring through Kyle’s residence. They were searching for something.

They moved swiftly through his kitchen snatching his pottery relics from the glass

display. Next was the living room, They removed the face from the tall grandfather clock that had remained in the house before Kyle even moved in. They took the couch cushions and the ornate satin lamp shades. One of the intruders left a sticky note with some illegible scribbles on it drawn in ballpoint pen. They curiously left the television, computer and surround sound system. Above the plush, leather couch was a large mirror and some artwork. Both were still intact.

From the living room they moved to the guest bathroom. The shower curtain rod had

collapsed to the floor and the tub was full of water. The sink was still running. There was a trail of water and some sort of powdery white substance sprinkled from the guest bathroom to the guest bedroom. The hallway was marked up with long deep scratches in the wood floors. The guest bathroom looked unharmed at first glance but with further inspection the ceiling fan and light fixture had been removed completely. In place of it was some duct tape covering the creavis in where it once was.

The next affected room was the main bathroom, which had also been tampered with.

The faucet wasn’t running but the shower was on, spraying ice cold water on the laminate floor next to the tub. The light switches were all on the down position but the room was still illuminated by a flashlight which had seemingly been dropped on the floor, partially submerged in water. The large mirror that was placed above the granite countertop vanity had been cracked. Kyle’s studio was in the worst shape, the door had been removed from its hinges, and was laying on top of the desk that Kyle worked on. The weight of the door badly damaged his laptop and speakers. His record player had been nearly destroyed beyond recognition and sat in a pile on the carpeted floor. His drawer of records had scattered all over the room, with his copy of Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy being taken out of the sleeve for the first time.

Having observed all of this from a third-person point of view during his slumber, Kyle

Moore. Leaped out of bed, and examined his home. To his terror, everything that he had witnessed during his dream was reality. His once beautiful home had been practically destroyed. As he went back to his room, thinking of what to do, he remembered that he had left his cell phone in his studio upstairs. He practically sprinted up the stairs, as he ran through the now vacant doorway to his studio. His jaw dropped as he saw in person what had happened to his favorite place in the whole world. He stepped over his now broken KIDS SEE GHOSTS vinyl. His anger rose as he took it all in.

He remembered that his phone was in fact not in the studio, but in the basement

where he was painting a model airplane the night before. He glided down the hallway, approaching the staircase. He took a step down the first step and slipped, his socks wet from the main bathroom’s floor . This caused him to fall down the stairs, his head colliding with each stair. As his body lay at rest he could feel some warmth from the pool of blood under the back of his head against the cold, hard concrete floor. The last thing he saw a before he went unconscious was four, tall ghastly figures wearing all black.