Demon's Door by Graham Masterton Page A

were swallowed in deep shadow. Jim strained his eyes to see if there was anybody there, but it was far too dark, and he suddenly realized that his eyesight wasn’t too good, either.
    â€˜Whoever you are, you come out where I can see you!’ he demanded.
    He waited, his lungs wheezing like a worn-out concertina, but there was no movement in the darkness. Whoever it was, they must be long gone. But as he turned to go back inside, he heard a slithering, scratching sound coming from the steps.
    â€˜I hear you!’ he said. ‘I know you’re there! You come on out!’
    He felt frail, and as vulnerable as if he were made of out of nothing but folded paper. He had to grip the railing with his left hand to keep himself steady. But for some reason he felt less afraid than he had ever felt in his life. And angrier , too.
    â€˜Don’t think you can get away, you yegg!’ he shouted. ‘You come back here you son-of-a-bitch and show yourself!’
    For over a quarter of a minute, all Jim could hear was distant traffic, and the rumble of a faraway airliner. Then he heard that scratching again, and that slithering, as if some kind of animal were slowly climbing the steps. He held the railing tightly in his left hand and lifted the ebony cane in his right. He realized now why he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t afraid because he was so old, and he didn’t really care whether he lived or died. Less than a couple of minutes ago, he had even wanted to die.
    But he also realized why he was so angry. Whoever had broken into his apartment had taken advantage of an old man’s vulnerability, his vulnerability. His age may mean that he was sick, and feeble, and incontinent, but he still deserved respect.
    â€˜What?’ he demanded. ‘Are you chicken-shit or something?’ He swung the cane around and around, so that it whistled, even though his elbow gave a painful click every time he swung it. ‘Too damned scared to show yourself?’
    It was then that he realized that two slanted yellow eyes were looking at him from just above the top step. He stopped swinging the cane and took two steps backward, until he was close to his open front door. The yellow eyes rose higher, as the creature climbed further up the steps. It was still in shadow, so Jim couldn’t yet see what kind of a creature it was, but he could tell that it was very big, and from the way it was steadily coming nearer, it didn’t seem to be afraid of him at all.
    He heard claws tip-tapping along the tiled floor toward him, and he was just about to stumble back into his apartment and slam the door when the creature stepped into the light. To his shock, it wasn’t a creature at all, but what appeared to be a woman. She was dressed in a shiny robe of slate-gray silk that reached right down to her feet, and which made a slithering sound as she walked. On her head she was wearing a tall black wide-brimmed hat, rather like the Puritans used to wear, but with a dark smoky veil underneath it. All that Jim could see of her face was that her eyes looked like two black smudges, more like holes than eyes, and that her skin was very white.
    She stopped in front of his door, with both her hands tucked into her sleeves.
    â€˜Erm . . . hi,’ said Jim. He couldn’t think of anything else.
    The woman said nothing. The night breeze stirred her veil, and Jim thought that he saw her face change, as if it were a white screen on which different images were being projected. For a fleeting moment, it looked animal-like, a dog or a fox.
    Jim cleared his throat. ‘Was that you in my apartment just now?’ he asked her. He was holding his cane tightly in both hands, in case she wasn’t as harmless as she looked. ‘If it was, I have to admit that you scared me.’
    The woman was silent for a long time. Then she said, ‘ Nomu palgayo. Mot chayo. Chamyonso, gumulkkwoyo .’ Her voice was high, but it was