The Fifth Door (Part-2)

Chapter 6: Letters from Forgotten People

Noah woke up on the floor near the fireplace, a blanket slung over his shoulders that he could not recall putting on. The fifth door was closed again. Everything appeared to be typical. But a gnawing feeling in his stomach told him otherwise.

He saw a variety of old envelopes on the mantle, all made of parchment with fragile edges. There is a name for each of the five.

One bore the name of his uncle.

Another was given to him.

He ripped open Ezra's mail. It had a single page of paper.

The house has chosen you, Noah, if you are reading this. I tried, but was unable, to halt it. It thrives on feeling, regret, and memory. Do not open all the doors. They tell lies.

One of the doors will lead to the exit. The others are going to tear you apart.

Furthermore, stay away from her at all costs.

There was no signature. On the back of the letter, however, the words "SHE WAITS BEHIND DOOR FOUR" were written in a weak hand.

Chapter 7: Door Three's Archivist

The third door had an eye-shaped keyhole instead of a handle.

Noah blinked and a key materialized in his hand.

He did not investigate this occurrence since he had gone beyond logic.

He entered a massive, circular library with ceilings that seemed unachievably high. All of the books had the same appearance—black spines devoid of titles—and the shelves extended into the darkness.

In the center of the room, a man in dark clothing squatted over a desk.

The Archivist.

The apparition said, "You have arrived early," in a voice that sounded like a creaking hinge. "People typically do not search for me until they have started to forget."

Noah stepped forward steadily. "Forget what?"

"Who are you? the cause of your trip. what you have lost.

The Archivist turned to him, its features hidden behind what looked like a shattered porcelain mask.

"Everyone forgets. But you have not as of yet."

Noah surveyed the area. "What are these books?"

"These are the lives of actual people. Each and every one. When some were done, "Others... interrupted."

He selected a book off the shelf after seeing his name on the cover.

"I am afraid you just have a few chapters left."

Chapter 8: The Five-Point Rule

The doors back in the hall creaked like wood lungs filling and emptying, like if they were breathing.

The fourth door caught Noah's attention. The one of which his uncle forewarned him.

This place has rules. Things were starting to make sense in Ezra's notes. Five doors. There could only be one leader. The others were snares. Illusions. or worse.

He took another look at the wall. The names were different.

There were now three more names crossed out. One had completely faded.

The dim flicker of his own name was like a dying lightbulb.

Uncertain of why, he whispered to the house.

"Which exit door is it?"

The home did not respond verbally.

On its own, however, the second door creaked open once more.

All that was inside was a mirror with a fracture in the middle.

There was no reflection of him in it.

Chapter 9: The Other Life of Noah

By itself, the fourth door opened.

Noah remained outside. Not quite yet.

Rather, the corridor started to change. The wallpaper retracted. The floorboards twisted upward as if something below wanted to get out. He sprinted—

—but the house curved to accommodate him.

Abruptly, he found himself in a compact, tidy flat.

It had a minty and jasmine scent.

“Noah?”

A voice from behind him. Soft. Familiar.

He pivoted.

Anna.

His fiance. The person who passed away two years prior.

Grinning as if nothing had happened, she stood in the kitchen.

She remarked, "You are early." "Dinner is about ready."

He took a shaky step back. "You are not genuine."

Her head was cocked. "You are not either. No more.

Chapter 10: A Person Is Observing

Noah slammed the fourth door behind him as he ran from the recollection. He tried to regain his breath and doubled over. His eyes were watering, but he blinked them away.

The hallway resonated with a low thud.

Footsteps.

Not his.

He pivoted.

At the end of the hallway, someone was standing.

Tall. Not moving. wearing a long black coat that rippled slightly and a wide-brimmed hat, as though she were caught in a fictitious breeze.

Not a face.

No sound.

However, it was observed.

Then it took a step back, into the wall, and disappeared.

Behind him, a voice as faint as breath whispered:

"The final door remains unopened. It is able to recall.

(To Be Continue)