A bright light filled Timmy’s room, followed by a deep rumble. Jumping from his bed, he went to the window. Sweeping aside a collection of stuffed animals, he pushed open the sash.
The cool night breeze blew in, chilling his cheeks. These was a faint odor of burnt metal, and just past the tree line at the end of the yard there was a warm glow. Pulling on his shoes, Timmy cracked open his bedroom door. The rest of the house was silent.
Leaving the back door cracked open, he raced across the lawn.
“Oh, let him sleep in. It’s Saturday.”
“That just builds bad habits. Timmy!”
Frank slid the final pancakes from the griddle onto the plates. The smell of bacon and butter wrapped around the kitchen like a warm blanket. Behind him he heard a stifled scream followed by the shatter of a dropped mug.
Timmy was standing in the doorway. His now bald head was covered with fine golden filaments. Instead of eyes, black mirrored orbs stared out.
“You are father?” a metallic voice asked.