Slam. Thunk. “Ow!”

I sat bolt upright in bed, thunking my head on the headboard and dislodging a yowling tabby who had, in all fairness been promised a better life and not too long ago. I rubbed the top of my head and searched the still night dark room as quietly as possible, still listening with one ear for the mysterious thunk downstairs.

“Sam?” I called- knowing my erstwhile roommate had to be close. “Sam?” I tried again, expecting him to duck in, smelling of smoke and yeasty beers. All the late night pub smells that defined our midnight chats.

A red masked face poked into my room instead – the scream had just begun to escape me lips when he pulled it off.

“It’s me!” He laughed and then I laughed. But only for a second. I flipped on a light and pulled the covers close to me, taking in his full on superhero ensemble, complete with the prerequisite blood -

“You’d better start talking fast. Something isn’t making sense here!”

He sank to the floor, pulling a dubious cat into tired arms and began talking. It was a long night just begun.