Page:Fantastic Volume 08 Number 01.djvu/112

 fell, in the rectangular shape of the window frame, on the door to his closet. This made the closet door shine and stand out from everything else. Did the moonlight always land there? Larry stood quietly, staring at the closet door, as if he could look through it and see what was standing inside, waiting. He stood that way for several minutes.

Finally he went back to his chair, moving very quietly and cautiously, and keeping his gaze fixed on the closet door. He sat down, facing the door.

Perhaps because he had stared so hard at it for so long, the door seemed to be slightly more open now than it had been. Then he looked at how it fitted in the jamb, and saw there had been no change. Again, he shrugged. But he did not turn back to the desk.

He cleared his throat. The sound was surprisingly loud, but it seemed reassuring. But in a moment, the deathly silence filled the room again, and Larry made no further sounds.

With sudden determination, he stood up, walked to the closet door, and flung it open.

He gasped, "No." But he could not move away.

The figure in the closet took a step forward. The face was contorted, the eyes bulging out, and it had a look of terrific strain on it. The mouth was pulled open; and the lines in the face cut deeply into the flesh, which was bloodlessly pale, dead. As it lurched forward from the closet, the mouth seemed to curl up in a hideous laugh.

Larry opened his mouth, but now he could not even speak. He stood still, frozen, as the figure drew up to him silently and reached up for his throat. He stared fascinated at the face as it began to bob up and down in laughter—laughter which was utterly soundless—and the icy cold fingers tightened on his throat.

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