My Craft Stories

The Voice Behind the Door

The room grew darker with the night as the sun set behind the windows throwing shadows on the wall of books. A sign on the center door warned it should never be opened. He wondered about the door for a moment then turned the page.

His reading went on for a few hours until only a candle lit up the room. He pushed his hands back to stretch. From the door came what he thought was a knock. There it was again expect this time he thought he heard a woman call out.

“Help me, oh please, help me.”

The voice assuredly came from behind the door even if it barely reached his ears.

“Oh, please, help me.”

He closed the book and sat. Many discarded and assorted books framed the doorway. The many books packed so tight they made up the skeleton of the wall. Even if he wanted to read one of the books, he couldn’t because they were wedged in so tight. His book he found on the floor. A book of horror and mystery. Yes, it was just one of the stories come to life in his imagination.

“I want to come out now,” he heard from behind the wall.

He froze in his seat and wondered how the words had managed to wiggle into his brain and fire off this imaginary voice. He watched the candle flicker slowly casting a shadow on the wall. Warily, he picked up the candle and walked toward the door.

He placed an ear against it to listen. He thought he heard scuffling on the floor.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” said the voice.

He jumped back from the door and nearly dropped the candle. He regained his composure, despite the shaking of his hand and the candle.

“Should I open the door and let you out?”

The voice answered almost immediately.

“Yes, yes, oh please, yes.”

The words “Remain Closed” on the red sign jumped off the door and he hesitated to open it. Yet, someone was inside. He reached for where the door handle should have been and he found no knob, no handle, and no way to open it. He pushed on the bottom with his shoe and the door opened a crack. Still, it remain frozen.

He leaned into the door pushing with his shoulder. The door refused to budge.

“Oh, I so want to get out of here. I’m scared.”

He stepped back and took a run at the door hitting it squarely in the middle. A ripping sound tore through the room and the door opened.

He waited for a woman to run through the opening. And she didn’t come out. He brought the candle inside the space and the light went out. He moved further inside the opening waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark.

Through the opening, he found nothing expect four brick walls making up a small closet. He spied behind the door looking for the strange voice. He went further into the closet and pushed the door back to see better in the corner. He found nothing.

Then the door slammed shut. He desperately pulled on the edge of the door trying to open it. It refused to budge. He now stood inside a small bricked space with only enough space to stand. He tried the door again. His efforts failed to open the door.

He stood on the inside and knocked.

“Hello, I seem to be stuck in here. Can anybody let me out?”

© 2018, Michael Shawn Sommermeyer. All rights reserved.

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