There’s something in the doorway. Something darker than the dark of my room, where the door should be closed.
I woke and looked straight at it. I haven’t been able to look away since.
It moves, just slightly. Not as if trying to be still, but as though some errant breeze disturbs its impossible silhouette. It hangs there, not standing, not twisting. Floating.
Something is floating in the doorway of my bedroom.
I cannot move. I am struck with that venom of cowardice, the kind that severs nerve from muscle. I try to gather the strength to move, to breathe, to—
Wait.
It moved.
No. It turned.
It has eyes. Red. I can see them now, glowing through the doorway, through the dark of my bedroom, through my mind.
It is upon me now.
It didn’t run. It didn’t walk.
It was simply at my bedside…
“Get out of my house or I will eat you!”