October 20, 2020

The Other Side of the Door by Mike Rader

Instinctively I pushed myself deeper into the armchair. Something had moved outside in the hallway. Just a quick furtive footfall. 

I watched the slit of light below the door. A fleeting shadow appeared then retreated. 

I counted my heartbeats. One … two … three … 

The shadow was back. It hesitated. It seemed to be uncertain. Then it passed along the line of light. 

Right to left. 

And was gone. 

Tension clamped my throat. My gaze was locked on that steady strip of light. Did they know I was waiting inside? How could they? Had I left some clue out there? Impossible! 

This time the shadow moved left to right, retracing its steps. It stopped. As though they were listening for any sound from the apartment. I sealed my breath in my lungs, not stirring, absolutely rigid. 

The shadow moved again. Right out of sight. 

Had they believed the apartment was empty? Had the silence convinced them? 

The strip of light was unbroken. A nice neat innocent line of light. As though nobody were out there, as though it were just an ordinary night in the city. 

I wrestled my tension back to normal. I forced myself to focus. 

That was when the light vanished, when one black shadow filled the whole space. 

I heard a key scratch in the lock. 

I saw the doorknob slowly turn. 

I was poised, ready. 

I lifted myself noiselessly from the armchair. 

As the door inched open, I hovered. Then I struck. 

My wings flapped furiously, I hurtled through the air, my beak embedded itself in the man’s face, my talons digging deep into his throat. 

He let out a single terrified cry like a lamb’s bleat, a sound wrenched from the depths of his being. 

I plucked out one eye, then the other, felt his body sliding away beneath me. I fluttered, circled, swooped, my talons ripping at his shirt, deep into his flesh. I pecked wildly, hungrily. 

Whoever he was, he should have listened to his instincts. And he should never have left his window open. 





James Aitchison, writing under the pseudonym Mike Rader, is an Australian author and poet. As James Lee, his horror and mystery stories for middle readers are bestsellers in Asia. As Mike Rader and JJ Munro, his horror and noir fiction has appeared via Akashic Books, Horror Tree (Trembling with Fear), Suspense, Thriller, and many other publications.

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