Broadway Doe
They named her for the place she died...
“There was only one rule: don’t open the door.”
I listened as Tony told the story, the one I'd heard hundreds of times since I came to the restaurant.
Twenty years ago, a young woman was robbed and shot on her way to the theater. She was found in the alley behind the restaurant. The cops never caught her killer and never identified the body. They named her for the place she died: Broadway Doe.
“Now her spirit haunts the alley…”
The new guy scoffed. “I get it. Scare the new guy…”
“It's no ghost story. Nobody who opens that back door comes back alive.”
The new guy stared, dumbfounded. “So I gotta take the trash out through the dining room?”
“Unless you wanna meet Broadway Doe.”
The new guy grumbled. Another hayseed here to make it big in the city… I knew the type. I used to be one myself. Poor fool wouldn't last a week!
The new guy obeyed until one night when the trash bag ripped as he lifted it. “Damn, busted bag!”
I watched from afar, waiting for the door to open. The doorknob rattled. A sliver of light appeared, and…
He froze like they all do, dropping the bag at the sight. A young woman in a torn black dress, blood dripping from an open wound in her skull… exactly how I looked when I died.
“They'll remember my name now…”
Claw-like nails pierced his flesh, and the last thing he saw was a pair of white eyes. They found him the next morning, the initials “B. D.” carved into his chest. Another casualty of Broadway Doe.
They have to die for my name to live.
About the Creator
Morgan Rhianna Bland
I'm an aroace brain AVM survivor from Tennessee. My illness left me unable to live a normal life with a normal job, so I write stories to earn money.
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Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
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