He stared at the woman with wide eyes.
Her words repeated like a broken record:
“That door you just kicked down was for your protection, not mine.’
He looked back at the door – it reminded him of a wide monstrous mouth.
The woman laughed softly, rocking back and forth in her cross-legged position. She had a gleam in her eyes he found unsettling.
The man took a step away from the door, only to be knocked on to his back.
A decaying hand wrapped around his ankle.
The woman laughed.
His finger nails ripped and cracked as he tried to claw his way out of the room. Yet, there was no use. The hand dragged him into the awaiting door, a trail of blood following behind.
The door slammed closed, drowning out his screams.
The woman was quick to rise from her spot on the floor.
She picked up a cloth and bucket of water and began to clean the blood from the hardwood.