Naomi was sitting at the kitchen table when she heard it: the sound of a key turning in the old metal lock on the attic door at the top of the stairs. There was only one person who had that key, her husband, William. “Oh no, please God, no!” she whispered as she stood up. She had told William there was something evil about that door. They had randomly found it when they built the house, and William had been instantly drawn by it, putting it in as the attic door, even though Naomi had begged him not to. “William?” she called, “What are you doing?” She began to slowly creep up the stairs. When she reached the top, there was her husband, slowly beginning to pull the door open. “William, please don’t!” she cried, as an inky black darkness began to ooze out of the ever-widening crack. But William didn’t seem to see it, though it was slowly making its way toward his stocking covered feet, pulling the door farther and farther open, until an unseen force blasted it outwards.
Christen Fischer
Owingsville (Bath County)