Chapter 21:
Horrid 17. The Sound of a Door Unlocking from the Inside
HG's horrid shorts
I live alone. I’ve always lived alone. I am the only one with a key, and I am the only one who bolts the heavy iron deadbolt every night at 10:00 PM. But at 3:00 AM, the silence was punctured by a sound that made my blood turn to slush: the metallic clack-slide of the bolt moving home.
It wasn't the sound of someone breaking in. It was the sound of the door being unlocked from the inside of the closet. I sat frozen as the handle began to turn—slowly, wetly. The door creaked open just an inch, and a smell of ancient, stagnant water filled the room. A voice, identical to mine but stripped of all emotion, whispered from the darkness of the coats: "Thank you for staying still. I was worried you’d leave before I finished growing your face."
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