Free Experiment in Terror 05 On Demon Wings by Karina Halle Page A

wasn’t plugged in anymore. But it stil screamed.
    I scampered for the door and flung it open, taking off
    down the dark hal way that was only lit by the nightlight by
    the bathroom door. I went straight for Ada’s room, ripped
    open her half-shut door and jumped into bed with her.
    “Ada!” I cried out in the darkness, putting my arms
    around her. “My television is possessed!”
    I paused after I said that. Ada didn’t feel like Ada. She
    felt… leathery . Beneath the sheets, something hard and
    cold and pointed flicked my way and it wasn’t her legs.
    “Ada?” I whispered in horror, an unbearable feeling
    rising up in my throat.
    Whatever I was holding shuddered, as if it were
    laughing.
    The rough protrusion stroked my inner calf.
    Then the light went on and I was blinded into a sea of
    yel ow/white.
    “What the hel ?”
    I squinted at the direction of the voice and saw the blurry
    shape of Ada standing by her door, one hand on the light
    switch, the other at her chest, clutching her pajama shirt.
    “Oh my God, Perry, you scared the hel out me! What are
    you doing?”
    I looked down at where I was on her bed. I was holding
    her pil ows in my arms.
    “I don’t know. I…my TV…it came on…”
    “So did the TV downstairs.”
    I sat up straight as she came over to me. She was
    wearing her striped designer pajamas, her hair sticking out
    at crazy angles, mad scientist style.
    “What?” I asked, rubbing my temples and trying to make
    sense of everything that just happened.
    “I woke up because I heard the TV turn on from
    downstairs. I don’t know if it was always on or what. You
    turned it off when you and mom were done, right?”
    I nodded. “Yeah, I remember. But my TV just turned on
    now too.”
    She calmed down as we rehashed our stories. I wish I
    could say the same about me. I was fixated on the fact that I
    had, very clearly, not been holding onto her pil ows a few
    moments ago.
    “Maybe there’s a weird power surge in the house,” she
    said, lowering her voice so she wouldn’t wake my parents.
    “Wel how does that explain the TV staying on after I
    unplugged it?” I pointed out fearful y.
    “I don’t know. I’m sure it’s possible.”
    “Come on,” I said, getting out of her bed and tugging at
    her sleeve. “I’l show you.”
    We went to my room but lo and behold, though the TV
    was unplugged as I had left it, there was no power flowing
    through it.
    “It said my name,” I implored, looking at her, trying to get
    her to believe me.
    “You were probably asleep,” she said.
    “But I wasn’t.”
    “But maybe you were. Look, I don’t know, Perry. You’ve
    been through a lot. You just watched a whole bunch of Tyra
    Banks. Combined, those things can create nightmares.”
    And with that, she left me in my room. A hugely selfish
    part of me wanted to beg her to stay with me and keep
    awake until I fel asleep, but I knew that she had school in
    the morning and I could afford to sleep in. I was just going to
    have to suck it up and try and get some shut-eye.
    Luckily there was stil some NyQuil left behind in my
    bedside table and before I had time to dwel on the evil
    television I was swept under by a merciful, drug-induced
    sleep.

    ~~~

    The next day, I pried myself out of my NyQuil coma and
    forced myself to partake in some exercise. It had been
    days since I left the house and my body was cooperating a
    lot better. I wasn’t wel enough to run, as my innards felt
    achy at times, but I was good enough to take a brisk walk
    down by the river.
    It was a beautiful day, too. The sun was weak and
    obscured by a thin layer of mist that rested over the river
    and treetops like a strip of gauze, but the light danced
    beautiful y and there was a hint of spring in the air. It was
    nice to walk the route for a change, instead of running past
    in a blur. I took the time to enjoy the pockets of nature, to
    pay attention to the crisp, clear pools of the river where
    shadows of spry fish swam