She approached cautiously. She knew she shouldn't be here but that is what made it all the more tantalizing.

It looked like an ordinary room. There was just the faintest odor, not unpleasant, but not something she could identify. Whatever it was, it made her mouth water. The open doorway beckoned her. She looked carefully at all sides of the opening. It looked innocent but something felt just a little off. Maybe she should leave it alone.

Turning away, she took her time looking around the area. Everything else was familiar. Noone was in sight. Birds were singing nearby. If they weren't worried, it was most likely safe, wasn't it? She was not aware of the eyes watching her.

Turning back to the opening, she carefully examined the interior. It was bright and airy, not at all threatening. She took a step forward. Then another. Nerves tingling, ready to bolt at any time, she looked around again. It seemed safe.

Two more tentative steps, head swiveling. Every nerve on alert. Birds still singing. Two more steps, that scent beckoning her forward.

The floor shifted slightly under her weight. Instinctively, she sprang backwards, towards the door. Too late. It snapped shut, trapping her inside. She pushed at it but it wouldn't budge. She tried pulling on it with no luck.

Worried now, she examined the rest of the enclosure. There was no other outlet. Getting frantic, she threw herself at one wall, then another. She went all the way around the room, looking for a weakness. There was none.

Suddenly, without warning, the room  went dark. Shivering, she curled up in a corner to wait for what happened next. There was nothing else she could do.

***

My wife had the coffee ready when I got back.

"Everything go alright?"

"Yep. Went fine," I replied.

"Did you go back to the park?"

"Yep."

"Anybody see you?"

"Nope."

She looked at me carefully. "You alright?"

"She was terrified. I know I had to do it, but I didn't enjoy it."

"Are you kidding me?"

I grinned. "Yep," I said. "She shouldn't have been trespassing. The whole damn bunch of them deserved what they got. They won't bother us again."

My wife poured me a cup of coffee. "She is in a much better place now. How many does this make?"

"Seven to date."

"Are you happy now?" My wife asked.

"I'll be happy when they leave me alone. I'll be happy when they stop laughing at me. I'll be happy when I can fill the bird feeder and watch the birds actually eat it without having to fight off a gaggle of squirrels. I'll be happy when I don't have to sit and watch the trap every morning. I'll be happy when I am no longer treating squirrels to all-expense-paid vacations at a nature park fifteen miles away." I stop to take a breath.

"Drink your coffee, dear. It's going to get cold."