
Nobody Behind the Door by Nicolas Gouny
You know exactly what they look like; black and shimmering, with big long jaws full of bright white teeth. They stretch their arms out, but never come closer than you allow them to.
You stand there and wait, using the light beyond the door to study every shiny scale. They growl and sniff and howl, restless in the dim.
You think they’re the reason you’re still here, that you can’t leave until they are gone. They know better.