“No speak? No open door?” the voice asked on the other side, a tinge of annoyance and impatience detectable under his troubled speech. “We open door. If Hunter no fight, no hurt. If Hunter fight... very hurt.”
There was a short pause before the hoarse man spoke again in a louder, more commanding manner: “Come! Hunters past door! Take Hunters!”
The sound of the room past the door being vandalized seized, and many footsteps could be heard approaching the door. It was almost eerily quiet on the other side now that the sound of breaking furniture and apparatus no longer filled the air.
Something next to the hoarse man, right on the other side of the door to their room full of cots, let out a furious, inhuman snarl just a second before something slammed into the door with tremendous force, shaking it visibly in its frame, but failing to break it.
A voice that sounded more canine than human let out a guttural roar as something struck the door a second time; far from as hard as the first blow, but accompanied by the sound of cracking wood and followed by a terrible sound of wood being continuously rent by something sharp, moving from top to bottom of the door. It repeated another time: a strike followed by something raking down the other side of the door, ripping the wooden obstacle apart. There was a faint sound of small pieces of wood hitting the floorboards on the other side. The canine voice growled.
The fourth blow striking the door proved more than it could handle, and suddenly a left hand – easily three times as large as a human hand should be, with long fingers each tipped by a black two-inch claw and the back of the hand clad in thick gray hair – penetrated the door all the way through, palm downturned. It curled up its fingers, preparing to sink its claws into the wood of the door immediately below the hand, clearly intending to rip a hole straight through it.