Someone Tried To Open My Door

There’s a reason the on-site accommodation at my university is called ‘The Street’. It’s a collection of about 30 three story houses all lined up along a pathway, much like a street in the real world but more secluded. It’s different to Halls, more personal, I’m only living with seven (well currently six, our new housemate has been due for a few days now) people instead of 107. We also have these cool electronic locks we have on the front doors, so only the people who live there can get in, plus locks on the bedroom doors. But, I almost never locked my door. We were pretty secluded at the end of the street and the only people who could get in I lived with, so there was never any reason to.

What I only recently found out though, was that our deadbolt has been broken for a few weeks and now the electronic lock doesn’t engage properly. When I found out I was annoyed that no one had told me, but otherwise unworried.

Tonight though…as I was getting ready for bed I got a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t know why exactly but, tonight for whatever reason I had to lock my door. It seemed stupid but this deep, intense fear I was feeling did not go away until I’d twisted the deadbolt on my own door and heard it click into place.

Satisfied that I’d abated my unexplained fears I climbed into bed, trying to get to sleep, but I couldn’t tonight. I tossed and turned until almost midnight when, the familiar house shaking bang of the front door opening and closing indicated one of my more nocturnal housemates had come in. At this point I just accepted the fact I wasn’t going to sleep tonight, because I can hear everything from my room. I listened closely trying to see if I could figure out which housemate it was. I only heard a few footsteps so thought it was someone on my floor.

The door to room 1 opened. Instant red flag, room 1 was empty until our newest member moved in. For a moment I convinced myself that it was our new housemate. I stayed listening hoping I was right. No. the footsteps continued up the hall stopping outside room 2. My room.

I froze, holding my breath, so that whoever it was thought my room was also empty. The door handle rattled in the quiet of my room as I stare at where my door would be in the darkness. By this point I’m shaking I’m so scared. I tried to press myself further into the wall as a banging started on my door. Too quiet for the others to hear but for me it might as well have been thunder it was so loud, like they were putting their whole body weight behind their attempts to get my door open.

I told myself that if I stayed as quiet as possible they would leave. Then, after the longest minute of my short life it stopped, but I realise now I don’t hear the front door open. I found myself relaxing, convincing myself someone was just trying to pull a prank on me and, at the same time thankful as fuck that I decided to lock my door.

Then just a few moments ago, I hear creaking footsteps on the stairs and, the door to the room above me has just been opened.

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Out of Body

I only wanted food.

I admit it. If I hadn’t locked myself away planning this doomed film project I would have eaten. If I wasn’t too lazy to cook myself something in that living biohazard my house calls a kitchen. I wouldn’t have gone out to buy myself something instead.

Honestly, I never imagined living a short life. When I thought about my future it always involved success and growing to a plump old age, full to the brim with life, and whatever it was I was going to achieve. Then, a man named Alex Mason who was jacked up on something, held up the corner shop I was in at knifepoint and I was stabbed in the chest and thigh. The knife almost certainly tore my femoral artery and, I was faced with the very real possibility that I was going to bleed out, on the floor of this damned shop at 19.

I was in surgery for hours. Something had gone wrong, they kept pouring blood into me. By the litre it seemed but, no matter how much they put in I kept bleeding it back out. I could only remember flashes of what happened. The ceiling kept blurring in and out of focus but I could make out flashing blue lights, which meant help had arrived, it felt like the lower half of my body was on fire.

There was an ambulance, hallways, so many people talking over my body that was somehow still alive. They weren’t giving up on me yet which was a good sign.

Whatever they used to put me under was doing weird things to me because, almost in an instant the doctors, fell away and I found myself separated from my body that lay immobile on the operating table.  An ashen and crumbling version of the hospital greeted me. I felt…drawn towards whatever it was that now sat beyond the OR. My curiosity got the better of me and I hopped down from the table still in a hospital gown. I wish I hadn’t.

Ash and grime coated every inch of this version of the hospital. The welcome desk was cracked in half, the patient rooms I mustered the nerve to peek into were completely ransacked. A lot of the lights weren’t working so as I explored, I followed the ones that were closely. I think whatever it was I encountered was counting on that as I found myself following the trail to the hospital’s grim basement area.

What caught my eye first was a girl stood facing a dead end hallway, she had on what looked like a metal underskirt straight from the Victorian ages. Her hair was an unnatural white that floated on a mysterious breeze, giving it a halo like quality.

She wasn’t facing me but a feeling in my gut was screaming to stay as far away from her as possible. The lights had fallen from their fittings in this area and she was almost completely in shadow. I made to follow my initial instincts as they usually did a good job of keeping me out of trouble. As I turned to leave though, a voice was carried to my ears along the same phantom breeze that affected the girl’s hair. It was soothing, silkily imploring me to step closer. I unconsciously dragged my left foot forward towards her. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t stop myself, and I edged closer and closer.

I could hear flies buzzing, it got louder and louder, until it felt like a swarm that was right on top of me. This was accompanied by a stench of rot, so overpowering I could taste it.

This girl was deathly still, yet no matter how hard I fought I couldn’t stop myself approaching her.

She finally moved, her hands slowly clutching the air at her sides. She reminded me of a black widow spider, waiting for her prey to drop its guard before it pounced. I didn’t want to be that prey but she was magnetising. I got almost within arms-reach when the frantic beating of my heart rate monitor broke me from my trance and I finally, stepped back, that’s when she rounded on me and dived for my hand which I didn’t even realise had been held up. I ripped it away instinctively and she came into contact with an invisible barrier. I screamed. And she dived again.

But that wasn’t what horrified me. The girl was me…she was wearing some grotesquely distorted copy of my face. The skin was sagging, exposing aged bone around her mouth and eye sockets which were bloodied black holes instead of actual eyes. Despite this though it was my face. I ran for it, and she dived after me again. I was almost certain she’d gotten me.

I woke up screaming. I survived the operation but the nurses had to sedate me to avoid tearing my stitches.

Ever since then, in that fleeting moment when the lights go out and darkness starts to surround me I see her. To think, if I’d been half a centimeter closer she could have gotten me. That invisible barrier that kept me safe that first time around? She can’t cross it. But, I think can, she wanted me to.

She still wants me to.