A/N: Hey! Go check out @Lord_Assassin_Writer's book of writing prompts! It's where I got the idea for this story. ^_^

They say higher-pitched noises are more unnerving than those of the lower pitch because of the sound of a distressed baby crying. The species evolved to recognize the signs of its young in danger.

Cora burrowed under the covers, wishing her brain would kindly shut up about auditory evolution.

The baby cried out again.

Cora whimpered to herself and dared to peek out from under the blanket. She hoped this was a dream. It'd make more sense if it was. Earlier, she watched that one Halloween episode of The Office where Robert California told the story of Lydia and "Baby". Hilarious, yes. But also horrifying and nightmare-inducing.

Hopefully.

Nothing was there. No toddler she didn't have standing on the threshold of her door, no crib rocking back and forth to still air or twinkly music. No nothing.

Cora sighed and rubbed her eyes. This was what she got for pulling an all-nighter the day before. Did hallucinations caused by sleep loss include nonexistent sounds? Maybe. She'd ask Google in the morning.

Something lept onto her bed, something with claws.

Cora shrieked and threw back the blankets, covering a medium-sized animal and forcing it off the bed.

Cora snatched the baseball bat she kept beside her bed and turned on her lamp with her free hand, palms sweating as if it were her lifeblood.

How did that get in? The doors and windows were locked, so how? And while she was asking questions, what in the name of all that was good in the world was that thing? A demon? A genetically engineered monster worked on by the government?

Free of the blanket, the thing thrashed on the floor before jumping onto the bed again, giving Cora a front-view seat of what the thing was.

A bobcat. A bobcat frothing at the mouth.

It growled. Then lunged.