Claws scraped against the basement door at the bottom of the stairs, and a shiver rushed down Jesse’s spine as the angry thing below whined between each stroke. The hinges rattled harder, and whatever lay beyond picked up its desperate pacing. Jesse didn’t want to be here when it finally broke out.
Carly opened the curtains again, staring into the white world beyond the abandoned shack they were supposed to be visiting for a quick delivery. Instead, the weather had other ideas, and Jesse had determined the road wasn’t visible enough to be safe to drive home through.
So they’d set in, throwing rotting wood into the dirty fireplace and lighting it with Carly’s cigarette lighter. The warmth was abysmal, but they were alive.
Until snarls in the basement shook them from their peace.
“It’s not safe outside yet,” Carly mumbled, dropping the moth-eaten curtains.
The thing below scrapped against the door harder. There was no way the door would last through the storm.
“Not sure it’s safe here, either,” Jesse hissed as he reopened the window. “Roads won’t be clear for hours at least.”
The splintering of wood echoed up through the basement stairs.
Carly swore. “No amount of money is worth this.”
Jesse opened the front door, the icy wind bitter and swirling inside the cold house. The door below cracked as it snapped, and a howl rent through the air.
Carly slipped her hand into Jesse’s as they rushed outside, the danger of cold finally preferred.
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