Behind Closed Doors

There was only one rule: don't open the door. Emily heard these whispers about the abandoned mansion on the hill, she didn't believe them. The owner, Mr. Jenkins, hired her as the new caretaker, and she needed the job. As she moved into the small apartment on the estate, he handed her a single, rusty key. "For the door," he said, his eyes serious. "Don't open it." Emily laughed, thinking it was a joke. But as the days passed, strange noises echoed through the halls at night. Creaks and groans sounded like footsteps, and she began to feel like she was being watched.

One stormy evening, the winds howled, and the lights flickered. Emily huddled on the couch, trying to distract herself with a book. But the door seemed to beckon her. She approached it, feeling an eerie pull. As she reached for the handle, a cold breeze swept through the room, extinguishing the candles. Darkness enveloped her. Suddenly, the whispers made sense. "Don't open the door," a faint voice whispered in her ear. Emily's hand trembled, but her curiosity won. She turned the key.

The door creaked open, revealing a narrow stairway descending into darkness. A figure, shrouded in shadows, climbed toward her. Emily tried to scream, but her voice was trapped. As the figure loomed closer, Emily saw her own face staring back, twisted in terror. The whispers grew louder, a chilling chant: "You should have listened." The darkness consumed her, and the door slammed shut, trapping Emily in the abyss.

The next morning, police found her key on the ground, but Emily was never seen again. The door remained closed; its secrets locked within. Locals whispered that on stormy nights, Emily's screams still echoed from within, a haunting reminder: don’t open the door.