Waiting To Die

They huddled in the glow of a single incandescent bulb dangling from the ceiling; there hadn't been a sound from outside in a while.
The cramped supply closet afforded them modest shelter from the thing that slumped through the corridors looking for them; and it would continue to, if the door holds up.
They tensed; It was approaching the closet again.
A shadow appeared at the doorjamb; It didn't move away like last time.
The door frame shuddered; hinges groaning against the force of the first blow.
The door itself began to splinter from the force of the second impact.