Refuge

The door was barricaded; they wouldn't get in without a struggle.
Two figures huddled in the darkness, listening to the shuffling horror beyond their refuge.
"Will they get us, Daddy?" she whispered.
"I don't think so, honey," he replied.
"They got Mommy; Is she dead?"
He didn't respond; the door was being pushed from outside. Besides, he knew Mommy wasn't dead, not really dead.
She was something else, now.
With each forceful push, the door grudgingly gave way.
Light shone through the crack of the doorway, revealing a ghoulishly feminine hand; it wore a ring he knew all too well.