Chapter 3 - Behind the DoorWe stood completely still.
Neither of us breathed.
The scratching stopped.
My husband grabbed my hand.
“Don't open it.”
“Who is outside?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
Another sound came.
A faint tapping.
Right against the wood.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
My husband backed away.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
I opened it.
There was only one sentence:
HE SHOULD NOT HAVE SLEPT BETWEEN YOU.
My stomach twisted.
I showed my husband.
He immediately took the phone from me.
“Who sent this?”
“I don't know.”
He called the number.
It was disconnected.
Then another message arrived.
BUT IT'S TOO LATE NOW.
I looked toward the door.
The scratching began again.
This time, something whispered from the hallway.
My name.
I stepped backward.
“How does it know my name?”
My husband suddenly looked terrified.
“Because you've been here before.”
I stared at him.
“No, I haven't.”
He said nothing.
“My parents brought me here once when I was a child.”
“What?”
I shook my head.
“I would remember.”
“You were six.”
My stomach sank.
“What happened?”
He looked away.
“You got sick.”
“What kind of sick?”
“You stayed here for three days.”
I felt dizzy.
My childhood memories had always been fragmented.
A large house.
A locked room.
A woman's voice humming.
And something crawling across my blanket.
I had always assumed it was a nightmare.
Then I remembered something else.
A small wooden box.
A red ribbon.
And a voice whispering:
When you return, the family will finish what they started.
I looked at my husband.
“Who am I to your family?”
He whispered:
“The woman they have been waiting for.”
May you like
And downstairs...
someone began ringing the old brass bell.
