Tormentor

Tormentor

<i>This story isn't really about me.</i><br /><br />On the Isle of Skye, near the community of Dunvegan, sits a rustic old one-bedroom home, waiting for a new tenant. It seems like the perfect opportunity for Jim Greenwood to escape the hectic London city life—a place to move on from tragedy.<br /><br /><i>This is the story of a house.</i><br /><br />As he tries to settle into country life, his is tormented by mysterious soot marks left throughout the house while he sleeps, cryptic e-mails from unknown senders, and hundreds of hand-drawn stick-figure drawings etched in a perfect pattern on the cottage's cellar walls.<br /><br /><i>Stay. Beth needs you.</i><br /><br />Jim begins losing control, drinking excessively, shaking to an uncontrollable beat in his head, trying to decipher what may or may not be a code—or a warning.<br /><br /><i>No limbs, no limbs, no head, no head, left arm gone, left leg gone, no legs, no head.</i><br /><br />The door is open, and something is coming through. It's just a matter of when—and what.