The voice behind the door was sweet.

"Darren, honey… can you please open the door?"

Lenny—of all people—lit a cigarette. I gave him a look like: Really?

"In my culture, fire wards off evil."

Darren ran back into the room, pale and

"There's someone downstairs,"

I still hear that voice. Sweet at first.

Then monstrous. Begging us to open the door.