Chapter 1: Storm Door

A strong fall gale beat the storm door against its housing, rattling the glass, making Ava glance at the front door.

“Keys, Keys,” Ava said as her attention turned back to the purse in her hand. Two fingers rummaged through the contents. As she searched, heavy rain pelted against the rooftop above, resonating like falling pebbles. “Always lose my keys right when I'm about to leave.”

Not finding her lost property, Ava searched near the sink. Then the white dish rack where her coffee mug dried upside down. On the tip of her toes, she looked in the pantry where she had shoved the remaining toaster pastry in haste.

“No keys,” she breathed as she went back to the floor.

Then she remembered the towel she had set up on the opposite counter to quickly iron her shirt, the original a casualty of a spilled drop of coffee. Flipping over the still warm towel revealed the keys.

“Nice,” Ava said, sliding the keys into her purse, snapping it closed before pulling the strap over her shoulder.

Taking time out to iron her shirt had made Ava close to being late for work. A blond light flashed on her face as she hurriedly opened the fridge to grab the paper sack containing her lunch, a chicken sandwich in a zip lock bag, a banana, and strawberry yogurt. There was one last glance around the kitchen before her finger clicked the light switch down.

The living room was cast in darkness. Rain beat against the living room windows like tapping fingers. Muscle memory guided Ava past the couch and coffee table, into the foyer where she found the switch on the wall. A tan light filtered from the small light fixture above. The foyers accordion door squeaked as Ava pushed it open with her hip to retrieve her coat to protect from the rain, holding the lunch bag in her teeth to put it on.

Twisting open the top and bottom locks, Ava pulled open the front door. Cool wind kissed her face. The sound of rain falling from her porch roof made her pull the coat closer. It was still early morning, pitch black on the outside from the rain clouds above.

“Traffic is going to be a mess,” she muttered, checking her phone for the time before putting the device back into her purse.

Breaths of cold swept through the seems of the storm door, making it shudder as Ava's finger touched the handle. Her grip was firm on the cold metal but she stopped before pushing it down. Her eyes moved back and forth, scanning the glass. It felt like something had reached out and grabbed hold of Ava's heart. That feeling of ants crawling up her body from eyes past the door.

The light from above cast a silhouette of her reflection in the glass, blurry and dark, with stray strands of hair. The brightness reflected off the surrounding glass like an arc, making it impossible to see into the murk outside.

“You're imagining things Ava,” she said, her hand slowly turning the handle down.

She stopped again. That same sense of fear pushed against her.

Looking through the glass, Ava squinted. Rain water fell like a sheet from the end of her porch rooftop, highlighted blue by a distant street light. There was nothing on the porch that she could see, except the darkness in an alcove to her right.

The darkness in the alcove seemed to move, twisting from the falling rain.

Breathing.

Watching.

“Is anyone out there?” Ava asked, daring to inch her face close to the glass.

Fingerprints of white fogged the glass as she breathed.

“Hello?” She said, but the shadows did not reply. Only the sound of torrential rain falling from the porch rooftop tapping against the concrete walkway could be heard.

The porch light wall plate was on the wall to her right and Ava's hand went to the switch. She wanted to turn on the light to end the foolishness, and finally get on the road, yet her fingers would not move as much as she tried. Ava looked back into the gloom.

She was sure there was nothing there.

“But what if I'm wrong?” Ava whispered.

Images of someone rushing through the door the minute she turned on the light, breaking through the flimsy storm door, played like a nightmare through her mind, repeating with every drop of rain that fell outside. A cold swept against her neck as she pictured a sharp gleaming knife held to her throat, overpowered by the intruder.

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“Just close the door,” she said beneath her breath, but the nightmare shifted to the door being kicked back into her face, knocking her off her feet. The same blade slicing her throat.

Her hand left the light switch and moved slowly to the storm door again. There was a small lock beneath the handle, one she had never felt compelled to use before. She could latch it closed then flick on the porch light, keeping the nightmare on the other side if there was one. She twisted the lock to the left with an audible click, but Ava did not feel that usual pull on the door from the bolt sliding into its holding. Ava twisted again, but heard that same click, the bolt being blocked by the door frame.

“C'mon,” Ava whispered, twisting harder, holding the lunch bag between her teeth, using her body to pull back on the handle.

She twisted the lock again, until the door shuddered in her hand. Gasping, the lunch bag fell to the floor, spilling its contents. Ava took a step back, staring at the light that reflected in the glass like a halo.

“That was the wind, right?” She breathed, not daring to move.

The door handle appeared to still be in its proper place. Was it the wind, or did she actually feel the metal twist in her palm? Ava glanced at the porch light switch again, wishing she could turn it on, but the storm door was still unlocked. She could almost feel the warmth of her own blood tickling her skin from the fictional knife slicing into her skin, and her hand went to her neck to staunch the imaginary wound.

Her rising pulse beat through her fingertips.

“Dammit!' Ava cursed between her teeth as she crept toward the door, still rubbing her throat. She stopped just before it, the lunch bag crackling from her foot brushing against it as she leaned over to peer outside.

The rain was still pouring down, dashing any hope of the sunrise coming to vanquish the darkness. To Ava, the shadows in the alcove on the porch seemed to have grown, eating more of the wall. Inching towards the door in anticipation.

“This is silly,” Ava said, ringing out the hand that massaged her throat.

Ava hadn't been scared of the dark since she was a little girl. Not since her father held her by the hand, and shined a flashlight into the shadows one by one, proving the fear was all in her head. The relief allowed her to sleep peaceably that night, but her father wasn't there now to quell the darkness again.

“Grow up Ava,” she thought, shaking her head. In the glass of the storm door, the silhouette reflection of her eyes blinked back at her.

Then a thought wafted through her mind that sent a chill down Ava's spine like icy fingers. The tan foyer light was above, shining down on her back. It's reflective glow made it impossible to pierce the darkness outside, but worked as a flashlight for anyone looking in. If there was someone lurking in the shadows, they could see her clear as daylight. They could have been out there standing in silence, the falling rain masking their breath as they watched her every move.

Ava's breath quickened.

Sweat misted her palm that she wiped down against her skirt with quick strokes.

Ava leaned forward, her forehead nearly touching the glass. The shadows outside seemed to respond in kind, moving closer to the door. There was nothing but inky black that she could see, but if there was a bible beneath her hand, Ava would have sworn she could feel something staring back at her.

“Hello?” she whimpered, praying she would finally hear an answer.

The storm door rattled again, harder than before, banging against the metal until she reached for the light switch on the wall and swiped her hand down.

The tan light above cut out like a candle being blown out by a breath. The shadows fell on Ava's shoulders and on the door, melting with the darkness on the porch. Now they shared the gloom, both she and the porch covered by the black. The falling rain made it sound like the water was close to rushing in. The wind howled through the structure of Ava's porch and over the door that made it gently push against the side jamb.

Slowly her hand went to the storm door handle.

Ava could not see any movement outside, but she thought she felt tension, someone holding the other side of the handle. Ava closed her eyes, muttering a prayer, her forehead growing cold as she leaned against the side of the door.

The wood on the porch groaned. The wind whispered outside in response, almost mocking her.

Her prayer finished, Ava looked up, looking at her shadowed face staring back at her in the glass. Then with a push of her shoulder and a twist of the hand, she held her breath and opened the storm door, stepping into the darkness.

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