The East Ward of Harbrook Hill is a home for the criminally insane, but only the most deranged dwell on the fifth floor. Take Walter Hosler, this morning’s new arrival. He hasn’t spoken in a year. Not since the cops found him hiding in the basement of his house, his wife lying dead upstairs. The part of her that was left, at least.
Now he’s alone in a dark cell five stories off the ground, behind locked doors and stone walls, staring down through the bars of his window. Watching the woods. Waiting.
Something is coming for Walter. Something hungry. And no one is safe.