The Familiar
Lucy nervously paced in front of the triangular window, the harsh white light infiltrating the gloom of her bedroom. She cast her green eyes down into the front garden: a mess of unkept lawn with grass that grew as high as her waist and streaks of gravel that sort of resembled a path if you squinted. She had a good vantage point; her bedroom was the highest room in the house. Most people would call it an attic and wouldn’t like to spend their time in such a dim room, but Lucy wasn’t most...
Supernatural