CHAPTER 1 — THE DOG WHO WOULDN'T STOP WARNING ME
Rick had always been the kind of dog everyone wished they owned.
He wasn't loud. He wasn't destructive. He never barked at passing cars or strangers walking outside. If Rick made a sound, there was always a reason.
That's why I couldn't ignore what started happening three weeks before everything changed.
Every night, exactly between 2:30 and 3:00 a.m., Rick would jump off his bed and rush into the kitchen.
At first it was just barking.
Then came the scratching.
Then something that made absolutely no sense.
He started climbing.
Not onto the chairs.
Not onto the table.
He somehow managed to leap from the countertop onto the very top of my kitchen cabinets—nearly eight feet above the floor.
He would sit there in complete silence.
Staring at the ceiling.
Growling.
Not at me.
Not at the walls.
Always at one exact spot above the ventilation duct.
It became a routine.
Every single night.
People laughed when I told them.
"It's probably mice."
"Maybe squirrels."
"He's getting old."
Even my brother joked.
"Your dog finally lost his mind."
I tried everything.
I hired pest control.
They inspected every wall.
Nothing.
I installed new traps.
Nothing.
I even replaced the ventilation fan.
Rick still climbed.
Still growled.
Still refused to leave that spot.
The strangest part wasn't his barking.
It was the fear in his eyes.
Rick wasn't acting aggressive.
He was terrified.
Almost like he wanted me to stay away... while desperately begging me to look.
One evening I stood below him.
"What is it, buddy?"
He looked directly at me.
Then back at the vent.
Then back at me again.
Almost...
Like he was trying to explain something.
That night the noises changed.
Instead of scratching...
I heard a dull metallic thump above the ceiling.
Then another.
Then complete silence.
Rick exploded into frantic barking.
He had never barked like that before.
Not once in the eleven years I'd owned him.
I grabbed a flashlight.
Dragged the old folding ladder from the garage.
Climbed onto the counter.
The vent cover looked crooked.
Odd.
I had lived in this house for six years.
I'd never noticed that.
I unscrewed the grille.
The smell hit me first.
Not decay.
Not mold.
Cold air...
Mixed with old dust and something metallic.
I shined the flashlight inside.
At first...
Nothing.
Then...
Two human eyes reflected the light.
Someone...
Was staring back at me from inside the ventilation shaft.
I screamed and fell backward off the ladder.
The flashlight rolled across the floor.
Rick launched himself at the vent, barking so violently his entire body shook.
The face disappeared into darkness.
By the time I grabbed my phone to call 911...
The vent was empty.
Or so I thought.
Because seconds later...
Something heavy began crawling through the ceiling above my head.
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And it was moving toward my bedroom.
End of Chapter 1...
The nightmare hiding above my ceiling had only just begun.
