Annoyingly, Joan also had a back door, so Gerald simply hollowed out the inside of the tumbler on its deadbolt with his dremmel, effectively fusing it...shut like her windows. Sure, if Joan had some vice grips, she might be able to find enough lever on a window to pry it open; or if she was some sort of awesome locksmith, she might be able to pick the lock on her front door, but for most women, she was sealed in. Before his stay was done, Gerald sometimes added a deadbolt to the master bedroom. Carrie's heart was pounding, and her body was bathed in a cold sweat. With shaky hands, she undressed. Emily simply appeared before her nude. Her clothes having vanished with a thought. “Don't be afraid. I will not hurt you,” Emily whispered, “Kiss me, Carrie. I have not felt touch in so long.” Drawn to the beautiful, ghostly woman, Carrie embraced her. She was just as warm as Colt, or even herself. The fear that had rose so sharply left her, just as rapid. Carrie marveled at the softness. More

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