Out of the corner of my eye I swear I saw it move. Not much but it definitely moved.
No-one believed me told me I was imagining it. It was a bloody ornament after all.
Then it moved again. Not a small shimmy forward like last time but the hand of this tiny statue turned, the fingers rolled for a second then nothing.
They laughed at me, told me I’d had too much.
I was unsettled but I accepted the reality of it. It was a trinket a little statue brought back from holiday. Something sitting below the television and forgotten about. It couldn’t have moved.
I went to bed to calm down and clear my head. My friends remained downstairs.
I awoke to a scream.
They were all dead.
It was gone.