The Door of Fears

“Ma? Where did you say this place was again?” Rebecca asks while looking at her mom’s head from the back seat.
” Crescent Falls is where we’re going to.” Her mother says.

“Where is that at and why this time at night?” Rebecca asks completely puzzled.
”Somewhere in the country side and because this is the only time that the realtor had available this week. Plus, I figured since your father has a new job up here that we can have a chance to enjoy nature for what it is. We don’t get much nature in the city do we?” Her mother says smiling at the road ahead.

“No I suppose not.” Rebecca says as if her mind was distant from the conversation as she’s looking out the window.

Rebecca has always been the curious one of the family. Always reading books about things unexplained. Unanswered questions always seem to hide in her evergreen eyes. Her mother has always been the first aid kit of the family. She is always caring for the family and is as protective as any mother can be. Her father, in a way, is almost the opposite. He always goes with the flow and avoids any conversation that could turn into a conflict. Together, however, they make the perfect family.

They’re driving down a road that seems as if it never stops. The trees appear to spread out for miles only to be engulfed by the horizon at near sunset. The trees all seem to be lightly painted with the many blended colors of red and orange. As beautiful as this scene is, the trees appear to resemble an eerie structure; a graveyard. They are all silent and as still and the dead buried within the ground. They are all mimicking each other’s appearance, like lined up tombstones, which makes the car seem like its tires are glued to the cold pavement.  As the road gets closer to the house, the trees change their stance. Their bodies start to bend, as if bowing. Their bare branches come at you like hands with sharp fingernails. Their complexion turns from a beautiful orange-red to a dull gray-black.

Being sucked in by the scenery, Rebecca didn’t realize that they were already at the house.

“Oh, for goodness sakes Charles wake up! You’ve been sleeping this whole entire trip and missed the beautiful scenery.” Her mother yells at her father. He wakes up startled and then blinks a few times and looks at his wife for a moment. He looks over towards the house and sees the realtor already there.

“Well, Maryanne, I thought I told you that we couldn’t dilly dally along. Look, the realtor is already there. I swear, you could have driven somewhat faster.”

“You were asleep the whole entire time!” Her mother laughs a bit, hitting her husband jokingly on the arm. They both get out of the car and her mother looks behind her to see if Rebecca is there.

“Come along Rebecca. We don’t want to keep the realtor waiting.” Her mother says, waving to Rebecca to hurry along. Coming out of what seems to be a trance; Rebecca unbuckles her seatbelt, opens her door, and joins her mother and father to meet the realtor.

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” Her mother apologizes.

“It’s no problem at all. Come inside, the house’s interior is to die for.” The realtor says naturally as if scripted.

The family walks into the house and Rebecca is left behind staring at the house. The house isn’t made of brick like most houses; it’s made of a dark, worn out stone. The dead, shriveled up ivy is still embedded onto the outside of the house. Winter has taken its toll this year, especially on this house. No sights of anything even half alive. Not even sights of a curious little bird.

“Rebecca. It’s freezing out there. Get in the house before you catch a cold.” Her mother scolds. Rebecca hurries along inside and closes the door behind her. Standing in front of her now is a sea of dark cherry wood. The kitchen counter tops were black granite and the curtains were sheer black. Walking into the dining room her eyes are fixed on a chandelier that glistens with the dim lighting in the room. Over to the left is the living room with a charcoal black marble fireplace.

“This place is gorgeous.” Her mother says with awe.

“Yea, this place is nice.” Her father agrees with very little interest in the matter.

“It’s a good thing it’s up for sale again. The previous family three weeks after buying it. I can’t imagine why, this house is a dream.” The realtor says while looking at the walls of the house. Turning around to see her parents in the dining room, Rebecca notices a door slightly ajar. She walks over to it and peeks through the crack. All she sees is the steps disappearing into the blackness.

“Rebecca? What are you looking at?” Her mother questions.

Startled, Rebecca jumps in her place and pauses to catch her breath. “Nothing mom.”

“This door leads to the attic. It’s got a bad doorknob though, I think. It never seems to want to close. It won’t be too much of a problem to fix.” The realtor says, doing her job very well with selling the house. Rebecca’s parents and the realtor head back into the kitchen and start to talk about the house. Rebecca goes backs and looks at the door and peeks through the crack once more. Her heart pinches slightly, having an eerie feeling rushing through her.

“Yes! We’ll take the house” Her mother says overjoyed. The attic door then swings open as if someone from the other side had pushed it.

“Goodness me what was that?!” Her mother asks rushing over to where Rebecca was.

“It was just the wind coming from the attic window probably, Mrs. Fitzgerald.” The realtor says, trying to make up any excuse she can.

“Yes, relax Maryanne. It was just the wind.” Her father states reassuringly. Being easily convinced, Rebecca’s mother heads back into the kitchen with the saleslady. Still standing puzzled, Rebecca closes the door to the attic, but it opens slightly ajar. She closes it again and it goes back to being slightly ajar. Taking one last look at the door again, she goes and joins the conversation with her parents and the realtor.

            A few weeks have passed and the family has everything moved into the house. Nothing has been unusual since the attic door incident. One Sunday morning, Rebecca, as usual, is the first person up. Having nothing to do, she gets out one of her favorite books. Lying down on her stomach, she opens to where she last left off. As she goes to turn the page, a droplet appears on the next page. She wonders where it came from and so she looks up at the ceiling. Seeing nothing, she goes back to reading. As she goes to look back down at the book, she sees more droplets. Only this time, they don’t look like water. As each droplet hits the pages of the book, it turns a light pink then to red until it looks like blood. She looks back up at the ceiling and sees what appears to be blood, dripping down from the ceiling.

“Mom!” Rebecca yells, not taking her eyes off the book. Her mother rushes in, still in her pajamas, and looks at her with concern.

“What’s the matter?” Her mother asks with worry.

“What’s wrong with the ceiling? And look at my book!” Rebecca looks at her mother and shows her the book.

“What’s the matter with your book and the ceiling? I don’t see anything the matter with them.” Her mother states with a worried tone. Rebecca looks back at her book and flips through the book trying to find the stains that should have been left on the pages. There was there nothing there as well as nothing on the ceiling.

“Dear, I think you need to get more sleep at night. I’m afraid that you’re starting to hallucinate. Or, stop drinking too much coffee. Who even told you that you’re old enough to drink coffee? I mean you’re fifteen. That’s too much caffeine for a young girl your age, especially at night!” Her mother continues to babble while walking down the staircase to go to the living room. Not even paying attention to a word her mother is saying, Rebecca is only focused on the pages of the book and the ceiling. Feeling a big uneasy, Rebecca heads quickly downstairs to join her mother.

“Rebecca, could you please make me a cup of coffee?” Her mother asks while grabbing a magazine and sitting on the couch.

“Sure thing ma.” Rebecca says while walking into the kitchen. She gets the kettle, fills it with water from the sink, turns on the stove, and places the kettle on it. As she’s waiting for the water to be done, she looks out one of the kitchen windows. Just like the very first time she ever set foot on the property, all was still. The kettle steams and she reaches into the cabinet for a coffee cup. Holding the cup and the kettle, she starts to pour the water into the cup. The water, however, resembles none of the qualities of water. The liquid is a thicker substance with a dark crimson color and a faint smell of iron. She drops the cup and the kettle out of shock and stares at the substance seeping onto the floor from the busted kettle. Her mother runs into the kitchen and looks at Rebecca.

“What happened?” her mother asks worriedly. With no answer, Rebecca looks at her mother and then back at the floor; there was nothing.

“I’m really starting to worry about you.” Her mother says while handing her a towel to clean up the mess. After the mess is cleaned up, she walks out of the kitchen and heads up to her room. Making it up the first step, she hears a creaking sound coming from behind. She turns around and sees that the attic door is slightly more ajar that usual. Deciding to not go upstairs, she walks back into the living room with her mother and sits on the couch with her and picks up a magazine.

            The day passes quickly and dark hours of the night take over. Rebecca is reading in her bed using the light coming from her lamp to see. Being caught in the corner of her eye, she sees a blackish figure. Looking up to check, she sees nothing. She puts her book down on her nightstand and shuts off her lamp and quickly tucks her head underneath the covers. Being all alone in the quiet and in the dark, she falls asleep. She wakes up a few hours later from a strange noise pestering her soundless sleep. She listens and it sounds like music. She leans over to her nightstand and turns on her lamp. She gets out of bed and reaches for the doorknob cautiously and opens the door up all the way. Paying close attention to the music, she realizes that it’s her parent’s favorite love song being played. She steps out of her room into the upstairs hallway and looks towards the very end of the hallways where her parent’s room is. She sees no light and then looks towards the top of the stairs at the entrance to the hallway. She sees a dimming glow of light creeping into the blackness of the upstairs hallway. She walks over to the top of the staircase and noticed that the light was coming from the living room downstairs which was in a separate room to the right. Wondering why her parent’s were up at this time of night, she started to go down one step.

“Mom?” Rebecca asks wearily, going down another step. “Dad?” She asks quietly with a shake developing in her voice. No answer from neither of her parents. The house is silent, all but the music and Rebecca’s breathing.  As she steps down the third step, she hears the tape player starting to skip. Don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone. That was all Rebecca heard when the tape player stopped. Even though it was quiet in her house when she woke up, it turned deathly quiet. The air was still and the slightest breathing sounded like cannons firing. She heard a creak coming from downstairs and she realizes that that creak was coming from the attic door. After Rebecca’s first exhale, the light in the living room shut off. Without hesitation she turns around, but stumbles over the first two steps at the top of the staircase. She rushes to her room and gets into her bed. She’s breathing heavily and is afraid to move in her bed. Putting her blanket over her head and her hand over her mouth to quiet her breathing, she hears nothing; absolute silence. She slowly uncovers her head from underneath the blanket and moves her head slightly towards the door. Glancing at the doorway to her room, she sees nothing. Breathing out gently, she closes her eyes. She opens her eyes again, looking back at the doorway, and there stood nothing but a pitch black figure. It didn’t look quite human. Its legs and arms were placed like a spider’s and its neck looked as if it had been snapped. The thing had no face and yet it was looking straight at Rebecca. Staring at it with all the fear she had ever felt, she did what any normal person would do; scream.

“Mom!” Rebecca yells at the top of her lungs starting to cry and the sound of her mother and father’s footsteps echoed through the upstairs hallway. “Look out at the front door! There’s a monster there.” That was all her choked up throat would let her say. Her mother sits down on the bed next to her and rubs her back to calm her down.

“There is nothing there. It must have just been a bad dream.” Her mother says in a soothing voice. Rebecca looks up at her doorway and then runs out of her room to the staircase.

“What on earth are you so afraid of?” Rebecca’s father asks as he sees Rebecca in tears pointing down at the living room.

“The tape player was playing and the light was on and the attic door opened and…” Rebecca pauses looking now at the attic door and it flies wide open. Rebecca sees the same pitch black figure, only this time it was in human form. It was short like a kid, standing at the foot of the attic doorway. It didn’t move at all, it only stared. It disappeared into the attic just as quickly as it appeared there. The family all screams and runs out of the house as quickly as they can. They all run to the car and drive away into the night far away as they possibly can. Inside the house, the attic door closes shut.

            A few months later have gone by and another family is looking at the house.

“Oh, this house is just darling; we’ll take it.” A woman says.

“Are you sure Elizabeth? I’m looking at this house and it seems kind of creepy looking. It gives me the chills actually.” A man says looking at his wife.

“Yes, I’m sure. We can always remodel it.” The woman says excitedly to the realtor. The man is standing in the dining room, looking at the cherry wood floor, and still has that eerie feeling inside him. Just behind that man, the attic door is slightly ajar.