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Ben Tiferet to meet and that was in just over
an hour.
    ……………………………….
    Some short while later Jake was up, dressed and
breakfasted and ready to face another day.  The terror of his dream had faded
to just a vague memory and he walked towards the front door.  That was when a
strange feeling came over him.  For a brief instant, it was as if some thing
had touched his mind and then it was gone but he was left with the distinct
impression that something was wrong, very wrong indeed.
    He turned about and wondered what it was he was feeling. 
If there was one thing that Jake did possess, it was a particularly vivid
imagination.  It was impossible to grow up upon a staple diet of fantasy and
science fiction without one but, in his case, he was worse than the average
reader.  He went so far as to write the occasional short story and to research
the paranormal for his magazine articles over the last few years.
    No, it was not his imagination; he was certain of that. 
Something completely out of the ordinary was happening and he had every
intention of finding out what it might be.
    For a few seconds Jake stood still and looked down the
short length of hallway at the closed doors that lay before him and for the
first time since they had moved-in it seemed to be quite alien.  There was
something out of kilter, something that would just not gel.
    And so, with mixed emotions, Jake approached the first
door.  He could feel his heart racing with his nervous expectancy as if some
inner knowledge was trying to tell him that he was walking into danger but that
was not all he felt.  No, Jake was experiencing hope that all this might be a
precursor to an experience that could lift him from the hum-drum normality of
his married life.  He craved excitement and was revelling in the stimulation to
his senses that was finally reaching for him.  Maybe, at last, he was going to
encounter the supernatural personally instead of vicariously through what he
could read or write.
    As if time itself had become a viscous fluid, Jake opened
the door and looked into the lounge.  Slowly he allowed his eyes to scour every
inch of the familiar setting.  Nothing.  Everything was as it should be.  But,
there had to be something wrong.  Everything in his being was telling him that
he was about to face something that would not, could not, fit within the normal
scheme of things.
    So where should he look?  The kitchen?  Yes, the kitchen. 
That was very much Fiona’s preserve.  True, Jake helped out and did some of the
more basic cooking, but the only person who really knew her way around all the
cupboards was Fiona. 
    And with certain knowledge he stepped across the
threshold.  Again, he looked about but everything seemed normal.  There had to
be something wrong.  The conviction was overwhelming now.
    One after the other, Jake opened the units.  Pots, pans,
tins, packets of food.  There was nothing out of the ordinary.  And then he
turned towards the freezer.
    The feeling was all-pervading.  There was something
there.  There was something that would be revealed when he opened the freezer
door.  Stark and white, it stood there; beckoning.
    And Jake slowly reached out for the handle.
    And pulled…
    A reek of putrid offal greeted him and he reeled back in
disgust.  Something in there smelled foul.  What could there be that could
possibly smell like that?  Surely anything Fiona had placed in there would be
frozen by now.
    Jake withdrew the top drawer.  Nothing.  Then the next and
the next.  Still nothing.  It was in the bottom section when he found the bag
full and bursting with a glistening blood-red fluid that showed no signs of
being frozen.  Gingerly, he reached in and realised to his horror that the foul
looking contents were still quite warm.  There was something else.  Floating
within the liquid was a small raw and fleshy object and with a feeling of
revulsion Jake knew exactly what it was.  The bulbous