There was only one rule: don’t open the door. He repeated those four words every five minutes, making me more curious. The door was painted red and had some old carvings on it. I watched him pace back and forth, mumbling words to himself that I could not hear. I locked my eyes on him, waiting for the right moment to sneak away. Finally, the kidnapper froze his steps and faced his whiteboard, gliding his crooked index finger over his notes.
I crept over to the mysterious red door and gently turned the knob to the right, hoping it would not make noise and opened it. To my luck, the faint rust sound did not reach his ears. A pungent smell drifted and almost made me faint, but this would not stop me from discovering what he was hiding. I searched for a light switch before entering, and when the light turned on, I could see another red door across the dirty and empty room.
I hesitantly walked toward it, kneeled and put my ear against the door to see if I could hear anything. I listened to what seemed to be something metallic being dragged against the concrete floor, slowly going from left to right. I gave a faint knock on the door, and the sound suddenly stopped. I could feel my heart drop instantly.
“Hello?” I whispered with apprehension.
The sound of the chain made its way closer to the door, and I suddenly heard three knocks coming from the other side. I swung open the door, and that’s when I saw what seemed to be a witch-like creature chained to a post, dragging a human arm toward me with a sinister smile and laugh.
“I told you not to open the door!” the man yelled with fear.
About the Creator
Rebekah BT
Wanderer of words, striving to embellish my vocabulary.
I find beauty in sadness and convey them into writing.
Bringing awareness to addictions, mental health and the struggles of life.
Author of Book "Behind Skye's Eyes"
www.rebekahbt.com
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More stories from Rebekah BT and writers in Horror and other communities.
The Scarlet Imprint
I woke up early this morning and made some coffee. I had breakfast while sitting on the kitchen counter and taking in the view by the window over the sink. When I arrived last night, I could have sworn I had spotted a tall figure in the woods looking right at me, but before I could capture its physical aspects, it had vanished into the dark. It was most likely a wild animal wandering around, frightened by my arrival. That mysterious shadow had creeped me out, so I decided I would unpack the rest of my belongings the following day and hope for the rain to cease, which, unfortunately, was not the case. My eyes were so tired from driving in the thunderstorm, and I only wanted to get to bed.
By Rebekah BTabout a year ago in Fiction
The Dryads are Calling
They say the forest by Phoenix River sings. Perhaps it is just the wind howling through the leaves, or a particular birdsong. But Percy Fisher knows better; he knows what lies in those woods, and he knows that the forest sings of his demise.
By Leigh Hooperabout 11 hours ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Okay that was creepy hahahaha. Loved it!
I have my work cut out for me... Well done!