Pop Goes the Weasel, Pop Goes Your Head (Nightmares on Lull Lane #7)

Prologue

The sky turned a vivid shade of orange as the sun began to set.

The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of honeysuckle, and the warm summer breeze gently wafted through the pretty lanterns strung between the trees.

The staff bustled about contentedly, checking that the spread was perfect and doing a once over of the flower displays for signs of wilted blooms. No one noticed the unassuming figure carrying an immaculately wrapped box as it weaved its way down the gravel drive, past the manicured lawns and brightly coloured potted plants to the impressive marquee whose ceiling twinkled with fairy lights.

Inside, was an abundance of chic sofas and glass tables, with luxurious comfy cushions and throws strewn at random intervals.

Blue and silver helium ballons were anchored with weights around the marquee, and a banner emblazoned with the words, Welcome to my baby shower, in gold leaf, was mounted proudly in the center of the main wall.

The figure placed the box on the gift table and grinned, their gloved hand forming into a fist.

“Welcome to the world you little shit,” it snarled, “ time to play!”