Something visited me from behind my closet door.

Warning: this is a long story.

I shot up to a sitting position in the bed. There was no mistaking it. I was hearing footsteps, footsteps on stairs. Stairs which apparently lay behind the door of my tiny bedroom closet. Stairs which I knew for a fact - did not exist. The steps grew closer and closer, heavy slaps against what sounded like cold stone flooring.

I didnโ€™t scream. I didnโ€™t move. I wasnโ€™t even breathing. I sat, paralyzed by the impossibility of what I was witnessing. The steps grew closer until I could hear the short breaths which accompanied them. My heart began to hammer in my chest so hard that I was amazed it didnโ€™t break through the fortress of my ribs.


It was here. I could hear them breathing behind the door, exerted by the long climb. I felt a wash of sickening cold grow down my neck as a heavy dread began to weigh down on me.

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Tales of Terror from Tokyo: The Promise