The Door

The door to the closet in my house is said to be haunted. I never go anywhere near it. Not because I believe the rumours about it being haunted but my Aunty went down there one time and she never came back. 48 hours after her disappearance the dress she was wearing appeared outside the door covered in blood. 

It was a black dress with white daffodils all over. It was her favourite dress. Her favourite dress was completely fine one day and then soaked in blood the next. Is that even possible?

I was walking along the corridor to my room when I noticed my little brother opening the closet door.

“Alex don’t.” I almost shouted. He turned around and smiled at me mischievously and then ran inside the room. 

Everything that happened to my Aunty vanished from my head as I ran after my little brother. If something happened to him where I could have done something to save him I would never forgive myself.

The closet room was dark. Not the kind of dark in your bedroom where you can make out the shape of things. The kind of dark where it’s pitch black. I take my phone out of my pocket and turn on the flashlight. 

The closet room was much bigger than a normal closet room. It had a bed in the corner. A skeleton beside it. A desk full of papers everywhere beside the skeleton and there was another door. Beside the door there was a bunch of objects in a big pile that went around the whole room. 

“Alex?” I called. Silence. I call his name again. Silence. I walk around the room checking all the possible places he could be hiding whilst calling his name. 

I had no choice. I had to go through the door. I take slow deep breaths and make way towards the door. 

The room was pitch black but then the lights were all of a sudden turned on. 

In the centre of the room, was a person wearing a long black cloak that concealed their face. They were holding my little brother tightly with a knife against his throat.