Laura Morris is an attractive 29-year-old professional woman who has only recently rediscovered her independence after ending her nine-year marriage to Richard. Richard was everything she could have ever hoped for. He was Strong, Thoughtful, Caring, and oh so sexy in the marital bed. That was until the drinking started two years ago. Two years of sheer hell followed for Laura. The drunken rows, the violence and the illness that would always follow, had all become just too much to tolerate and Laura divorced Richard just eight weeks before the accident.
That fateful night in question Richard had been drinking most of the day. By 7.30 in the evening he had become the Monster that Laura had seen all too often. They had arranged to meet up that evening, just for a chat and perhaps to reminisce on better times. When Laura spoke to Richard at 7.30 on his mobile it was obvious he was in no fit state to meet with anyone and she called off their meeting.
At one minute to eight a huge bang followed by an even louder explosion was heard just outside Laura's house. Rushing to the window she saw Richards car wrapped around the railings at the end of the garden. Laura’s heart died that day along with Richard. He had clearly died a horrific death. On impact he was burnt to a cinder. Laura recalled the very last words she had yelled through the phone earlier that evening, to the man she once loved so very much, and those words were to come back and haunt her many times over. Laura had screamed at him to "Go To Hell".
Now six months later Laura was starting to live her own life again. She had been out for a pleasant evening with two girlfriends from work. They had laughed and flirted and Laura felt good as she laid in bed drifting off into a peaceful slumber. Suddenly she awoke with a start. The illuminated clock told her it was 2:30am. The room was icy cold. As Laura strained her eyes to see in the dark she had an overpowering feeling that she was not alone.
Then in the corner of the room, something was moved. Laura’s feelings turned to sheer terror. The hairs on her neck became erect, her spine became taught as she tried to reach for the light, but she could not move a muscle. Gripped in fear she just looked to the corner. A shape emerged before her, dark, shadowlike, grotesque. It moved closer to the bed, its penetrating eyes staring down at her. Deep set, bloodshot and filled with rage. Even in the horror of the moment Laura knew she had seen those eyes before. The eyes that hurt her so, that came before the punch, which inevitably would follow from Richard.
