In an instant, the very air surrounding them seemed to freeze, a palpable hush falling upon the room as Ciara's laughter and hand-clapping came to an abrupt and eerie halt.
Time, as if caught in a mysterious enchantment, ground to a standstill, freezing not only the raven in its predatory act but everything else as well.
Everything, that is, except for Ciara.
Her petite form, bathed in the pale moonlight, stood in stark contrast to the surreal scene.
Her little arm rose with a languid, spectral grace, fingers outstretched like a conjurer, pointing with deliberate precision at the television screen that had, seemingly of its own volition, flickered to life.
The room was soon inundated with the unrelenting drone of white noise emanating from the television, casting an unsettling spell over the surroundings.
Amidst the visual disarray, the audio morphed into a disconcerting recording of a hushed conversation.