The Waiting Door

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

“He will kill us both if you do it…” Emma began.

“Don’t even think about it. As a matter of fact, don’t you dare look at the door. I’m so serious Becca. You have no idea, no idea what he is capable of…his power, you won’t see it coming…”

Emma had a look of terror, of downright fright, as though she had seen things even the most evil of minds couldn’t conjure and while there might have been a bit of truth to what she said—Emma had been the only one to survive this far. Of all the victims who had come and gone, Emma hadn’t been killed…she was alive. Left down in the hole— for what? Why?

Becca kept her eyes on the door—a cold steel door with a caged peep hole and rusted hinges. No light seeped through any crevices. Instead, the familiar smell of dirt and freshly mowed grass lured her close.

“So if he kills us for opening the door, why aren’t you dead?” Becca asked. There was something about Emma’s story that wasn’t making sense and Becca knew she had to save herself, to get out by whatever means necessary.

“I don’t know…I’ve been down here so long that I can’t remember. He tried killing me but I didn’t die…I couldn’t…”

Becca eyed Emma curiously, wondering what that meant.

“How will he know I’m at the door?”

Becca stood—“what does it lead to? What happens if no one opens the door? Does he let us out?”

“Becca no, don’t do it… I don’t want to…”

Bright lights blinded Becca as the door opened. She hadn’t even touched the handle before something sharp pierced her skin and the lights exploded into darkness.