"Celwyn said, setting the storybook down on a table and drawing the blanket snug around his son’s shoulders. "

"A chill ran up Celwyn’s spine as his son sank lower and lower, as though a pit had opened up beneath the mattress. Abel cried out as the blanket wound tight around his body. It began to glisten, becoming slick and wet as it morphed into a red, spotted tongue."

"Abel coughed, not noticing the tiny wisp of mist that followed, before turning back toward the hall and closing the door behind him."