Daddy At The Door
Mummy said don't open the door – especially to daddy
There was only one rule: don’t open the door.
"Open the door, Ellie. It's daddy."
Mummy was super clear: don't open the door especially to daddy.
WHAM! The door rattles when daddy kicks it.
"C'mon poppet, I won't punish you, just let me in."
SLAM! Crumbly stuff lands on the floor. I see prickles of light around the lock.
I pull myself and Buzzy Bear tight into the coat cupboard.
Mummy and daddy aren't friends anymore. I hear them argue on the phone about Heather. I've never met Heather, but she must be daddy's really good friend because he talks to her all the time.
"Hon, it's really important you open this door NOW."
SMASH! The glass cracks like a spiderweb.
I press Buzzy Bear to my face. He makes it easier to breathe.
There's noise outside, nee-naa cars, flashing red and blue.
"Baby, PLEASE open the door!"
I hear a serious man tell daddy, "Sir, come away from the door. Walk towards me. For your family's sake."
"But my daughter's inside, she's just inside the door..."
"I understand, sir. That's why we're here. Now step away."
I hear fighting. Daddy cries like someone is hurting him.
"Ellie, we need to break down this door," says the serious man. "Can you move away, somewhere inside?"
I don't answer. But my head is muzzy and I can't really think properly.
There's a SMAAAASH and the door flies open.
Lots of policemen come in.
One of them goes into the kitchen, stepping over mummy, and turns off all the gas hobs on the stove.
A lady kneels down to me.
"Hello love. Daddy told me your mummy sent him a scary message. But we're gonna take care of you now. I'm Heather. I'm from Social Services."
About the Creator
Addison Alder
Writer of Wrongs. Discontent Creator. Editor of The Gristle.
100% organic fiction 👋🏻 hand-wrought in London, UK 🇬🇧
🌐 Linktr.ee, ✨ Medium ✨, BlueSky, Insta
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Compelling and original writing
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Original narrative & well developed characters
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More stories from Addison Alder and writers in Horror and other communities.
Baby's First Steps (Ending)
The ISS is oscillating, gently but constantly. I am tethered in the Soyuz descent module. It's docked at the far end of the Russian Zvezda module, mothballed and neglected. For decades since the 1960s, these old Russian ships had been our Crew Return Vehicles – our lifeboats – until SpaceX's Dragon programme superceded them.
By Addison AlderExclusive • about a year ago
The Voice That Waited
Seen (1) At the edge of a quiet town stood an abandoned radio station, forgotten by time and avoided by locals. The building had been shut down for over twenty years, yet people claimed that at exactly 2:17 a.m., a faint broadcast could still be heard on an old frequency. No music. No news. Just a voice. Daniel was a small content creator who specialized in audio storytelling. He didn’t believe in rumors, but he believed in stories. When he heard about the mysterious broadcast, he decided to investigate—not for views, but for curiosity. One cold night, Daniel entered the radio station with his recorder and headphones. Dust covered the equipment, and spider webs hung from the ceiling. Everything looked dead. Silent. At exactly 2:17 a.m., the old transmitter crackled. A voice broke through the static. “Hello… is anyone listening?” Daniel froze. The voice was calm but tired, like someone who had been waiting for a long time. “My name is Arthur,” the voice continued. “I used to work here. If you can hear me, please don’t turn this off.” Daniel whispered into his microphone, “I’m listening.” The voice seemed relieved. “For years, I spoke into this microphone, hoping someone would hear me. When the station shut down, everyone left. Everyone except me.” Daniel’s heart raced. “Are you… alive?” There was a pause. Then a soft laugh. “That depends on what you mean by alive,” Arthur said. “I passed away in this building many years ago. But my voice stayed. This place remembers me.” Arthur explained that he had been a late-night radio host, speaking to lonely people, travelers, and insomniacs. The night the station closed, he stayed behind to record one final message—something meaningful. But no one ever aired it. He died alone, with his words unheard. “So I kept talking,” Arthur said. “Night after night. Waiting for someone to listen.” Daniel felt a heavy silence fill the room. “What do you want from me?” Daniel asked. Arthur answered gently, “I don’t need fear. I don’t need fame. I just want my message to reach someone. Anyone.” Daniel nodded, even though Arthur couldn’t see him. “I’ll share your story.” For the first time, the static disappeared. Arthur’s voice became clear. “Tell them this,” he said. “You are not invisible. Someone, somewhere, needs your voice—even if you don’t know it yet.” The broadcast ended. The room fell silent. Daniel left the station before sunrise and spent the next day editing the audio. He uploaded the recording as a simple podcast episode titled *The Voice That Waited*. He didn’t add music. He didn’t add effects. Just the truth. Within days, thousands of messages poured in. People said the voice helped them through loneliness, grief, and dark nights. Some cried. Some found comfort. Some found hope. Daniel returned to the radio station one last time. At 2:17 a.m., there was no broadcast. The transmitter stayed silent. But Daniel smiled. Because he understood something important: Some voices don’t fade because they are loud. They survive because someone finally listens.
By Do bol ho jaaye 3 days ago in Horror
Getting Serious About Comedy (Part I)
If I were asked to remark on my life and the childhood that paved some road leading me to this point, I would have to say something about all the funny people who surrounded me for the last 26,872 days (and counting). Somewhere along that road, I became a big fan of laughter and the comedy that spawns it – and, I mean not only my own laughter, but the laughter of others, some of which I have actually been responsible for inducing.
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Comments (25)
Heartbreaking. The "stepping over mommy" was a subtle but powerful; image.
I love how you take the reader on a journey filled with ups and downs. Very well done Addison.
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lovely and amazing story, well done
⚡❤️⚡
This is heartbreaking and touching. Well done!
It’s so intense to think about what Ellie is going through. I hope she feels safe now with the help of the nice lady.
Whew, you had me at the edge of my seat...congrats on a great entry and top story
Oh no! Poor Ellie! That is not where I thought this story would go. Very well written from the child's perspective.
Did not see the ending coming! Well twisted. ;)
Wow. Way to subvert expectations! Clean execution, excellent writing.
What a great twist, great entry and well deserved top story.
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Whew, that was an amazing and well written read! Great job, Addison!
OMG amazing! Totally didn't expect the ending - well done!
Oh wow. I wasn't expecting that. Excellent entry. Congrats on the TS.
Wow, it's so great
Awesome story and entry!!!
What you did in 300 words was great, Addison. Stellar job.
That was a roller coaster! Congratulations on TS and great job!
This was an emotional fright. It's sad and unfortunately realistic. I thought of Jack Nicholson as the Dad.
Oh, I wasn't expecting that. Love that you've written from the child's perspective. This was heartbreaking. Great writing.
I feel bad for these kids, they never signed up for all this. Hopefully, some angel will turn up for them like Heather did here. Thanks for the wonderful piece
Dang, that took an unexpected turn. Well done, Addison. You did a great job building the tension -- a difficult task in microfiction.
The way my jaw dropped at the revelation of who Heather was! You did such a great job misleading me!