Behind the Basement Door

He nailed the basement door shut after hearing scratching. But by morning, the nails were

gone and something breathing was standing behind him. He heard it

again, a slow dragging across the other side of the door,

like claws pulling down the wood. He hammered every nail he had, his hands shaking,

breath short, praying the noise would stop. But when the sun rose,

the door was wide open. Every nail lay neatly on the floor,

arranged in a perfect circle. And then he felt it,

warm breath on the back of his neck. He didn't turn around