An owl hooted. Howard shuddered; he didn't like the sound of it. In fact, he didn't like the sound of any of this at all. Ever since his grandmother had pulled him along on his horrifying trip, he had witnessed things that kept him wide awake at night.

Like what had happened to that farmer. Man number 1, as his grandma liked to call him. Yes, he had done terrible things to his wife, but he didn't deserve that. Did he?

Right?

There was a rustle in the bush beside him. His grandmother's face poked out; he could barely see her face in this darkness. She turned her head and looked at the thing they were meant to be watching. Tenningway House stood about seven metres away, big and brooding. Howard couldn't help but shudder again.

Another rustle. His grandmother was checking her watch.

"Ten to ten," she whispered. "Keep watching the house."

Howard did. He trained his eyes on the only lit window in view that spilled golden light into the garden. A figure moved inside; a female form. She was brushing her hair, long strands separating. It was almost mesmerising.

"Six to ten."

Howard did not move. The figure was advancing towards the bed now. She crawled in, hauled the covers over her, and reached for the switch.

The light cut off, and the house was dark.

"Wait a bit," hissed his grandmother. "Wait till she's nice and sleepy."

Howard swallowed hard at the way she said it. But he knew that the woman sleeping would not be their target tonight. A man named Jonathan Coyle would. And he was in that house right now. The only difference was, in the next hours he wouldn't be.

"Ten o'clock," sang his grandmother. "It's time."

Howard shuddered as they crept towards the house.