The Deadly Gift 🎁

 Opening the front door to my apartment, I was hit by a sickeningly sweet scent. Right at that moment, a loud, shrill laugh echoed from the kitchen. I winced in frustration; my wife’s friend had shown up after all, just like she said she would. She had been traveling across Japan for an entire month, returned literally this morning, and rushed straight to her best friend to spill the stories—as if it couldn't have been done over the phone.

“Hey! How was work?” my wife, Sarah, said as she waddled into the hallway with that distinct pregnancy gait. She was supporting her heavy belly with her right hand. Only two months left until our son was due. We’d already picked a name—James, after my grandfather.

“Hey,” I said, leaning down to plant a kiss on her plump, rosy cheek. “Everything’s great on my end. How about you?”

I looked pointedly toward the kitchen and wrinkled my nose. That was the source of the nauseating perfume. Sarah’s friend, Chloe, seemed to pour it on herself by the gallon. I couldn't stand her. She’d been terrorizing me since high school, and it had dragged on all the way through graduation.

“I warned you Chloe was coming over,” Sarah said reproachfully. “We haven’t spoken for six weeks; we missed each other.”

I had hoped she’d be gone by the time I got back. Damn it, I should have stayed late at work, I grumbled to myself, placing my shoes across from a pair of massive platform heels. Left her damn hooves right here, the big heifer.

Straightening up, I forced a sugary-sweet smile onto my face because that snake Chloe was crawling out into the hallway, wearing a dress that was far too short.

“Hello, Alexi-Poo,” she purred, giving me a playful little wave. “How are things?”

For some reason, Chloe was the only one who called me by that nickname, one she’d given me years ago.

“Yeah, hi,” I replied distractedly, edging my way toward the bathroom. I had to hold my breath just to avoid inhaling the toxic fumes coming off my wife’s friend.

“Where are you running off to?” Chloe asked snidely. “Don't you want to hear about Japan? It’s an incredible country! I went to Tokyo Disneyland, the Imperial Palace gardens, the Aokigahara Forest... it was so interesting!”

“I’ll hear it some other time,” I muttered quickly, grabbing the handle of the bathroom door. I wanted to lock myself in for a long time, but a hand suddenly clamped firmly onto my wrist. Chloe was far too close, hitting me with a blast of that wild fruit scent. I nearly choked on the air.

“Oh, don't be such a bore,” Chloe pulled me insistently toward the kitchen. “We haven’t seen each other in so long, I want to chat. Come on, come on!”

“Okay, just let me wash my hands.”

I gave in quickly because arguing with that stubborn woman was a losing battle. She’d throw a fit, and Sarah would get stressed. It was better to just tolerate her for a bit, gritting my teeth.

“Where’s Ben?” I asked, referring to my younger brother, as I reluctantly followed the women into the kitchen.

“Oh, he’s glued to the computer again,” Sarah sighed, waving her hand dismissively. “You should see what Chloe gave me!”

She pointed to the kitchen counter. There stood a large, square, black wooden box with an intricate carved design on the sides. Clouds were painted in gold filigree, and on the top was a red sun with two cranes flying toward it.

“And what is it?” I asked tentatively, looking from the box to my wife.

“It’s a Japanese Happiness Box,” Chloe answered instead, smiling proudly. “It brings wealth, health, and beautiful children into the home.”

“Oh, I see. Thanks.”

I managed to endure half an hour in Chloe’s company, listening to her non-stop chatter and shrill laughter. Eventually, I made an excuse about being exhausted from work and wanting to lie down. She didn't want to let me go, asking me to stay just a little longer. Finally, I managed to escape, practically kicking my way into the bedroom I shared with Sarah.

Unfortunately, there was no peace here either. My computer was still occupied by Ben, who was playing some shooter, wearing my own noise-canceling headphones. Ben was seven years younger than me. He’d graduated high school four years ago, but he refused to go to college or get a job. One day our parents lost their patience, they had a massive blowout, and Ben stormed out of the house. He asked Sarah and me if he could stay for a little while until he found a job and a place of his own. Of course, I agreed; I couldn't just throw my brother out on the street. Our apartment was big enough for everyone. But Ben’s “little while” had stretched into a full year. A very difficult year.

Sarah loved my brother about as much as I loved her friend. They fought almost every day because wherever Ben went, he left a trail of trash behind him. And that infuriated my clean-freak wife. With Sarah’s long-awaited pregnancy, the arguments had only gotten worse. I tried to stay neutral because I didn't want to fight with my wife, but I didn't want to lose the bond with my brother either. But with the baby on the way, I had to drop hints to Ben more and more often that it was time for him to move out.

“You’re still wasting your life?” I said, pulling the headphones off my brother’s head. He jumped in his chair, startled, and stared at me with wide eyes like a frightened lemur.

“You... what’s wrong with you? Why’d you scare me like that?” he shouted, pausing the game.

“Are you serious? Did you look for a job today?” I asked, crouching down in front of the large rabbit hutch. Sarah’s favorite white rabbit, Snowy, was peacefully chewing on a cabbage leaf, her back legs stretched out. Ben, for some reason, hated that rabbit and kept threatening to turn her into a stew when no one was home.

“I’ll find a job! Why are you starting this again?” my brother snapped, pulling the headphones back onto his head and grumbling under his breath. “Everyone just leave me alone, I'm sick of it... can't get any peace around here.”

I sighed heavily. I gave up on him in my head. I didn't want to fight right now, though my hand was itching to give him a good smack on the back of the head. Sometimes it felt like Ben never grew out of his teenage years.

Soon, to my relief, Chloe went home, and Ben and I went back to the kitchen to eat the leftovers from dinner. At the table, Sarah and my brother managed to bicker again—Ben just wanted a closer look at the box, and Sarah snatched it out of his hands. Before bed, she placed the box on the dresser and carefully put all her rings, necklaces, earrings, and other trinkets inside. When the box opened, I felt that unpleasant, sickly sweet scent of Chloe’s perfume for a second. It felt like she’d sprayed it inside the box too.

The next day, I got home two hours early. On Fridays, our workdays were shortened. No one met me at the door, but the TV was blaring in the living room. Sarah and Ben were still brooding, judging by their sour faces and how far apart they were sitting on the couch. Sarah was sitting with a sleeping Snowy in her lap, and Ben was hugging a massive, greasy bucket of popcorn. Instead of watching something good, they had some horror movie on with a terrifying nun. Arguing with Sarah that she shouldn't watch horror movies in her condition was pointless—it was her favorite genre, and it was the one thing she and Ben actually agreed on.

Right after the movie ended, Sarah went to sleep, and I sat down at the computer before my brother could grab it. How long could he hog my PC? I wanted to play in peace on my own weekend. I sat there until late into the night, shooting at mutants in some wasteland. I noticed the time had passed 1:00 AM. Telling myself “that’s enough,” I took off my headphones and exited the game. I stretched with a wide yawn, rolling my desk chair back a bit. The wheels moved across the rug with a quiet creak, and over that sound, I heard something else. A faint, repetitive clicking.

I dropped my arms and strained my ears, trying to locate the source. I leaned to the side and looked into the hutch—Snowy was fast asleep. After a second's pause, the sound repeated, louder this time, followed by a barely audible, long moan.

“Sarah...” I turned quickly toward our bed, my heart thumping with anxiety. Моя wife was sleeping peacefully on her back. I could see the duvet rising and falling with her deep breaths. I exhaled in relief. I’d been terrified that something had happened to her. And then, another click.

It came from the dresser. I snapped my head toward the sound. The Japanese box, clearly visible in the glow of the monitor, was open. A face, white as pure snow, was peeking out of it. Long, dark hair was scattered messily around the box. Wide-open eyes were staring directly at me. The pupils were an abyssal, bottomless black. The head was sticking halfway out, like a neighborhood kid peeking over a fence.

I don't know how long I sat there frozen before I bolted from the chair. It felt like a bucket of boiling water had been poured over me from head to toe. I blinked, and the head was gone. The box was closed, as if nothing had happened. I stood there for a while, indecisive. I was terrified to go near the box, but I wanted to convince myself that I’d just imagined it. Sleep deprivation can cause visual hallucinations after all. Because in reality, no one could have fit inside that box—it was only eight by eight inches.

Finally, pulling a utility knife from the desk drawer, I edged toward the dresser. The box was sitting exactly where Sarah had put it. I spent over a minute staring at the designs on it, biting my lip nervously. Then, I slowly reached out and tapped the lid twice with my finger. God, I'm acting like an idiot. Of course there’s no one in there. But I was so scared.

Taking a deep breath, I flipped the lid back in one quick motion. Inside lay my wife’s jewelry, untouched. I let out a quiet laugh at my own stupid fear. I must have imagined it! It was those damn horror movies. That’s it, time for bed, or I’ll start having nightmares next.

On Saturday morning, I was jolted awake by a piercing scream from my wife. I sat up abruptly, looking around the room. Sunlight was filtering through the gap in the curtains. The clock on the wall said 9:00 AM.

“What’s going on?”

“Alex...” I flinched at the sound of Sarah’s sobbing voice. I didn't see her from the bed at first. She was kneeling on the floor in front of the rabbit hutch, gasping for air between sobs. Before I could even process anything, I leaped out of bed and rushed to her. “Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?”

“No...” with a trembling hand, she pointed to the bars of the hutch. “Snowy... she’s... she’s dead.”

A cold chill washed over me. I tore my gaze away from Sarah and looked at the hutch. The rabbit was lying on her back, motionless. Her eyes were bulging, her mouth was open. It was clear she was dead because her neck was twisted at a sickening, broken angle.

“My God,” I whispered, looking into the rabbit’s glassy pink eyes. “How... who would do this?”

“Who do you think?” Sarah snapped suddenly, hitting me in the leg with her fist. “Who was the one threatening to kill her, to make a collar for his jacket out of her fur and turn her meat into stew?”

It was true. Who else out of the three of us had a motive to snap poor Snowy’s neck? But for Ben—my younger brother, who I thought I knew inside and out—to go through with the cold-blooded killing of a pet... I guess I didn't know him as well as I thought.

“Why are you guys screaming so early in the morning?”

Right on cue, Ben opened the door without knocking. He was standing there in just his boxers, his hair a mess from sleep, with pillow marks on his face and bits of the sheets stuck to him. Sarah stood up, leaning both hands on the hutch, and glared at him with a fury I had never seen before—never in all our years together. Her face was contorted with rage, she was baring her teeth like a rabid dog. She was shaking. Ben glanced at her indifferently, then looked at the rabbit’s body and made a fatal mistake—he chuckled.

“Oh, looks like the long-ears finally croaked.”

Screaming with rage, Sarah lunged at Ben, clearly intending to claw his eyes out. I managed to catch her and hold her back. I was more worried about my wife than that idiot. Her face was already bright red; her blood pressure must have been through the roof. Struggling unsuccessfully to break free from my grip, Sarah screamed at the frozen Ben, swearing at him and accusing him of murdering her favorite rabbit.

“Are you guys crazy?” he yelled, finally snapping out of it. “I didn't even touch her! But honestly, good riddance! I’ve wanted to snap her head off for a long time!”

That was the final straw.

“That’s enough!” I roared at my brother, and he jumped. I rarely ever raised my voice. I pointed toward the front door. “Get out of here! I don't want to see you in my house ever again!”

“Fine, go to hell!” Ben screamed back. “You and your fat cow of a wife! I hate you both!”

While I was calming down my sobbing, hysterical wife, I could hear my brother running around his room, hurriedly getting dressed and cursing us both. I should have found the strength to kick him out a long time ago; it never would have come to this. Ben ran out of the apartment, slamming the door so hard the windows rattled, shouting one last insult at us as he left.

I spent nearly an hour giving Sarah sedatives. I offered to call an ambulance several times, but she refused. Once she finally fell asleep, I carefully took the rabbit’s body out of the hutch and placed it in a shoebox. I took it down to the river and buried it deep in a small grave so the stray dogs wouldn't dig it up. The rest of the day was spent in a state of mourning. I barely managed to convince Sarah to eat, insisting it was for the baby.

The next day, I took my shell-shocked wife for a walk in the park, then to a movie to see a kid’s cartoon. She needed a distraction, she needed to recover. I couldn't let her grief affect James. That evening, I called my boss, explained the situation, and took a few days off. Leaving Sarah alone in her state was too risky.

In the middle of the night, my eyes snapped open. I stared blankly at the ceiling, having no idea what had woken me. I tilted my head and looked at Sarah—she was sleeping peacefully on her side, her hands tucked under her cheek. I instinctively looked at the hutch and then remembered with a pang of guilt that it was empty now. I should have taken it apart during the day so we wouldn't have to look at it.

From the left side of the room, where the dresser was, I heard three distinct clicks. A wave of ice-cold dread washed over me from the top of my head down. I recognized those sounds. I’d heard them before. Slowly, I shifted my gaze from the hutch to the dresser. Even though the room was dark, I could clearly see that the damn box was open. With a sound like dry rustling leaves, thin black strands began to crawl out of it. No, they weren't strands—they were long, black hairs. They spilled around the box, hanging off the dresser. Behind them emerged a stark white, high forehead and two insane, massive eyes. They scanned the bedroom quickly and locked onto me. The clicking started again, and the head continued to emerge from the box.

A thin, upturned nose appeared, then dark, pursed lips. A thin neck followed with the sound of snapping bones... The head lolled to the side, the mouth opened slightly, letting out a stifled gasp and that same clicking sound. Long, spindly fingers reached out of the box, touched the pale chin, and gripped the edge of the wood.

With my heart hammering at a frantic pace, I watched as something crawled out of that Japanese box. I was drenched in sweat. Internally, I was screaming in hysterics, my eyes bulging, but I couldn't move. Not a single muscle in my body would obey the command from my brain: get up now. A prisoner of my own fear, I was forced to watch as a hideous woman entered our room, impossibly emerging from that small box.

Leaning her white, bony hands on the dresser, she twisted her head with a sickening crunch. Her hair fell in messy tangles over a gray, filthy nightgown. In one sudden lunge, she vaulted out of the box, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. I inhaled sharply and held my breath. Where was she? Was she on the floor, or had she vanished? I heard a quiet rustling—something was crawling on the carpet.

White female fingers, almost glowing in the dark, gripped the foot of the bed. Then, that terrifying face appeared with its black, gaping mouth. The woman’s head was twitching with the sound of grinding cervical vertebrae. Wheezing and clicking, the monster crawled onto the bed, her arms splayed out at unnatural angles. I could feel the mattress dipping under her weight. I felt her heavy palm land on my leg, pinning it down. The cold dread turned into a suffocating heat. It felt like I was burning from the inside out from the sheer horror of it, but I couldn't even manage a whimper.

Her face stopped right at my chest. Her head turned toward Sarah with a bone-deep crunch... A loud buzz from the intercom snapped me out of the paralysis. Gasping for air, I sat up abruptly. There was no hideous woman on the bed. There was no one in the room at all. And the box was tightly closed.

Woken by the intercom, Sarah groaned and shifted under the covers. Someone buzzed a second time, insistently. So... it was just a nightmare? It felt so real... But of course, it couldn't have been real! It was that thing... sleep paralysis! Yeah, that had to be it. There was no other explanation.

“Who the hell is that?” Sarah grumbled, sitting up. “Alex, can you check?”

“Yeah... yeah, okay.”

Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I stumbled into the hallway. After that nightmare, I was even afraid to look through the peephole. But it was just my brother, dead drunk. How had he even made it home in that state? I couldn't just leave him in the hall; I didn't want the neighbors to see. I opened the door, and Ben literally fell into my arms. Grabbing him under the armpits, I dragged my “beloved” brother to his room. He still had enough energy to mumble something. Sarah came into the hallway to watch the scene; fortunately, she didn't say anything, she just shook her head. After dumping him on the couch, I went back to bed, but not before taking a heavy dose of sedatives—I was still shaking from the nightmare.

Thanks to the meds, I slept until noon. Sarah had already made breakfast and had managed to fight with Ben twice. He wouldn't say anything about his two-day bender, and when she asked him why he killed Snowy, he just snarled that he didn't do it. The bastard didn't even have the courage to admit what he’d done. He was completely dead to me now.

“Listen up,” I started, going back into his room after breakfast. Ben gave me a sour, side-long look from the computer desk. “I’m giving you one week to find a new place. We’re done with your behavior. Killing Snowy was the last straw.”

He tried to argue, but I shut him down hard.

“The free ride is over, Ben. Welcome to the real world. I don't care if you find an apartment in a week or not—I promise you, I will throw you out myself. Do you understand me?”

I didn't hear his answer; he just growled something through his teeth. If he thought I was joking or that I’d go soft after the week was up, he was dead wrong. I had made up my mind to get my arrogant brother out of the house.

Sarah and I spent almost the whole day walking in the park. We had lunch at her favorite café, then went down to the river. Sarah asked tentatively where I’d buried the rabbit, but I refused to take her to the grave—she would have just started crying again.

We got home late that afternoon. Ben had cleared out somewhere, but judging by his stuff, he wasn't gone for good. I went into the kitchen to heat up some dinner, and Sarah, exhausted from the walk, wanted to lie down for a bit. A few minutes later, I heard her call my name with a strange tension in her voice.

“Alex... what is this?” she asked in an odd tone, pointing at our unmade bed.

At first, I didn't understand what was bothering her, so I walked closer. When I saw it, it felt like an electric shock: on the pale sheets lay a clump of long, black hair. Exactly like the hair of that... No, it can't be. It was just a dream!

“What is the meaning of this?” Sarah picked up the tangled hair with two fingers, looking disgusted. “While we’re out of the house, this jerk is bringing girls over and messing around in our bed? Alex, this is the final straw!”

I shook my head in disapproval. Yeah, it was a perfectly logical explanation, and it was exactly the kind of thing Ben would do. He must have sensed the confrontation coming and didn't show up. He didn't answer his phone; he just sent a short text saying he was at a friend’s place and was staying the night. Honestly, Sarah and I were fine with that. I changed the sheets, and Sarah demanded that I throw the old ones away. As I was stuffing the crumpled sheets into a trash bag, I glanced at that cursed box.

“I really don't like that thing. It smells weird. Maybe I should just take it to the dumpster?”

“Alex!” Sarah put her hands on her hips, annoyed. “I know you can't stand Chloe, but that was a gift! It’s expensive, it’s imported... you can't just throw it away.”

“Fine, fine, honey. Don't get worked up. I’ll try to get over it.”

I woke up in the middle of the night again. Before I was even fully conscious, I heard my wife whimpering. I opened my eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what was happening. First, I saw Sarah. She was lying on her back, tossing her head from side to side in her sleep. Her hair was matted to her sweaty forehead. I blinked again and propped myself up. Sitting on Sarah’s legs was a pale woman in a filthy nightgown. Her hair was draped over her face, barely revealing insane eyes and a twisted mouth. Her hands, with splayed fingers, were resting on Sarah’s belly, stroking it. And then, they suddenly sank deeper, right through the duvet, up to the wrists. The monster’s mouth opened wide, and the room filled with a raspy wheeze. Immediately after, Sarah let out a blood-curdling scream and her eyes flew open.

The paralysis vanished instantly. I leaped out of bed, throwing the duvet to the floor. The terrifying woman was gone, and the only thing left was the sound of the box lid slamming shut. My wife’s nightgown was intact—no holes, no damage. But the new sheets between Sarah’s legs were soaked in blood.

The ambulance arrived quickly and took us both. The paramedics and then the doctor told us everything would be okay. Yes, it was premature labor, and yes, Sarah had a placental abruption that hadn't been diagnosed for some reason, but the baby was well-developed and viable. Shortly after Sarah was taken into surgery, both our parents arrived at the hospital. All four of them were comforting me, saying everything would be fine, that babies were born at this stage all the time. They said today I was going to be a father.

I wasn't. James didn't make it. He suffocated. The doctors couldn't revive him. I don't know how long I sat in the waiting room, numbed by the news. I vaguely heard that Sarah was in critical condition and had lost a lot of blood. Someone told me I should go home and sleep, that they wouldn't let me into the ICU to see her anyway. How could I leave her?

Time became a blur. I didn't know if hours or days were passing. At some point, our parents finally led me outside, put me in a car, and drove me home to the apartment Sarah and I shared. I only came to my senses for a moment when I stepped through the door. Ben gave me a somber hug and said some words of support—I didn't remember them. My father left eventually, but my mother stayed for a while, feeding Ben and me something, I don't know what. It felt like I’d fallen asleep in the hospital waiting room and was now walking through a permanent fog. I didn't want to do anything. I just sat in the living room in front of the TV, staring blankly at the screen. Ben would come in often and ask if I needed anything. Of course I did—I needed to wake up and for Sarah and James to be okay.

A sharp sound pulled me out of the haze. It took me a second to realize I’d dropped the remote on the floor. The living room was dark; some movie was playing on the TV. I fumbled for my phone on the couch and checked the screen—it was 1:30 AM. My mouth was bone dry, and as much as I didn't want to move, I needed to go to the kitchen for some water.

I stood up heavily, my legs feeling like lead, as if I’d aged decades in the last few days. I shuffled down the hallway in my slippers. The door to our bedroom was ajar, and I could see the glow of the computer monitor through the crack. Ben, as usual. I heard some strange sounds coming from the room. Was he playing without headphones?

I grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open. Ben was lying on his back, his arms splayed out, his eyes staring wide at the ceiling. His mouth was stretched open to its limit, his tongue lolling to the side. Sitting on my brother’s chest was a pale creature with black hair. Her fingers were clamped tightly around his throat. The head of the woman who had crawled out of the cursed box snapped back with a crunch, her hair sliding away from her face, and her gaze locked onto me. Her dark lips stretched into a long, hideous smile... and I screamed at the top of my lungs!

After that, the fog returned. I don't remember calling the police or the ambulance. I don't remember when they arrived. I was taken somewhere and questioned for a long time. I answered distractedly, often making no sense. Eventually, they let me go—they said the fingerprints on Ben’s throat didn't match mine. It turns out I’d been in custody for four days. I was released just in time for my brother’s funeral. That, too, was a blur. I remember my mother’s sobbing, my father’s voice telling me to stay strong. I remember my grandfather’s tearful embrace and the comfort of my friends. I remember Sarah calling from the hospital and Chloe sobbing on my chest.

That damn box! I’d completely forgotten about it in all the worry over Sarah. If I had gone home right away and thrown it out—no, burned it—my brother would still be alive.

I found myself in the bedroom, standing in front of the dresser. It was sitting in the same spot, looking like a simple, beautiful jewelry box. I grabbed it and violently dumped out all of Sarah’s treasures. They spilled onto the floor, but I didn't care.

“Oh, what are you doing?”

I jumped at the sound of my mother’s voice. I stared at her in surprise; I didn't know she was still at the apartment.

“Yeah, it’s just me,” I looked down at the cursed Japanese box in my hands. “A gift... damn it... an imported gift from Chloe. Mom, I have something I need to do. I’ll be back soon.”

“Alex...” my mother moved into the doorway, blocking the hall. “Don't do anything stupid. First Sarah, then Ben... don't you do anything crazy!”

“Don't worry,” I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I promise, I’ll be back in an hour.”

Sarah’s friend Chloe lived only two stops away. I sent her a quick text saying I wanted to talk, and she agreed immediately. And even though she’d been crying her eyes out just this morning, Chloe met me at the door with a full face of makeup, wearing a short leopard-print robe.

“Alex, I’m so, so sorry!” she cried out with a misplaced smile and tried to hug me. I stepped back, awkwardly adjusting the strap of my bag. Chloe didn't seem bothered. “Come in. I have some bourbon; you need to relax.”

“Thanks, I won't be long.”

I went into the living room and sat on the couch, glancing at the bottle on the table. Chloe sat down next to me, crossing her legs so that her robe slid up.

“Listen, I have a weird question for you. Where did you get that box? You know, the one with the cranes that you gave Sarah?”

Chloe’s face changed instantly. Her eyes darted around in a panic. She licked her lips, shifted her position, and grabbed my hand, starting to speak in a fast, frantic whisper:

“I did it for you! I took that box from the cursed forest! Only for you! I’ve loved you since first grade, I loved you from the very first moment! And you chose that cow Sarah! She’s not right for you! She tried to trap you with that pregnancy, but it’s okay... it didn't work! And I’m so sorry, Alex! Your brother wasn't supposed to die; that was an accident! It’s just... she didn't understand who was in your way. She was supposed to get rid of Sarah and the baby!”

My hand moved on its own. My fist slammed into Chloe’s jaw. Her teeth clicked together loudly. She slumped to the floor, unconscious. I stood up, stepped over her, and went into the bedroom, unzipping my bag. I knelt down by her wide bed and, reaching under it, shoved the Japanese box deep against the wall.

Я smiled as the lid clicked open slightly, followed by that familiar, clicking sound.

“Sweet dreams, Chloe.”