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"His mind hastily sharpened into focus from the meandering train of thought. His wall wasn’t empty anymore. Martin’s vision was a bit blurry without the aid of his glasses, but he could see the door very clearly. Where there had once been a scuffed blank wall now stood a sickly yellow door. In the darkness, the yellow was dull and ugly in a way that set Martin on edge.
...Through the yellow door’s gap came a long, spindly hand. It crept along the wall like a spider and fluttered for a moment – just a split second – before moving to the inner door knob and swinging the door open.
What stood in the doorway was–"... Or: Martin, still trapped in his flat by Jane Prentiss, is visited by a certain manifestation of insanity. Not knowing who or what he is, Martin places his trust where he shouldn't.