Fear Itself

A large figure loomed ominously in my doorway, a deep rattling breath rumbled in the its’ chest. I could sense its gaze piercing the black of the room, scrutinizing me.
I gathered my courage, and remembered something my father had told me, I said, “There is nothing to fear but fear itself.”
A low guttural laugh echoed through the room, followed again by that hideous rattle. In a voice that sounded like dried leaves being dragged across sand it said, “How right you are. He’s in the next room, I’ll get him.”