The Door by Nadia Calder

Every thought, every bone, every cell in my body told me not to open that door, yet my overpowering curiosity was already winning, as it did every time, as it would this time.

Goose bumps appeared on my arms, even though it was a warm summer evening. The moon’s glowing beam of light shied away from the doorway, fizzling out. Nothing could be seen through the crack above the dark oak door. The door was warped and up close I could see long, thick scratches, as if someone, no something, had tried to claw their way in. Snarling and growling filled my ears in an uneven rhythm. And yet, my hand still inched forward until I grasped the door knob. All sounds stopped and a frozen chill filled the room, starting at the door and clawing its way through my body, a chill that my robe and slippers did nothing to help. Along with the slight rust, my hand clung to the knob as my palm grew sweaty.

I opened the door, and I woke up. I was panting, and sweat gleamed on my hands, just like in the dream. Normally, I would dismiss it as any nightmare, except that I had had that same recurring dream for the past week. And the door in my dream was the same as the one in my basement. As I did the past seven nights, I untangled myself from my twisted sheets, pulled on a satin bathrobe, and shoved slippers on my feet.

I padded to the basement and jerked the creaky door open. The stairs were worn beneath my slippers as I crept down them. Spiders crouched in their homes, made in the crevices and cracks of my basement ceiling. On both sides of me, a blanket of dust covered the clutter filled basement. No sounds were omitted through the door. I turned with a sigh and trudged back up the stairs. But then I heard a noise. Again I heard it– definitely a growl. I took a tentative step. The noise grew, shaping into a feeling; fear. I let out a small sound, maybe a gasp or a quiet yelp, I don’t know. Whatever it was, was greeted by sudden silence– a pulsing, awful silence. I shrunk back.

There was something behind that door, some thing, and it couldn’t be good.