Tag Archives: Short Fiction

The Locked Door – Day 2

Start at Day 1

That night he was in                                 and then                                                         they                                                                                                                                                                                    d r  a   g    g     e      d                              him                                                                                               into the .

“Stop it, stop                                                                    kept pushing and pushing                                                                                                                      tight                                                     confined                                               couldn’t breathe

pounded and pounded and pounded and pounded and pounded and pounded and

the key                                                                                                     the door                                                                                                 the key                                                         the door

alone

and then he woke up.

He couldn’t remember what he’d dreamt, except that he was all alone in a tight space and he couldn’t breathe. He remembered trying to move, but he was completely encased inside of a space so small that he couldn’t bend his knees. And he remembered two tall, dark figures dragging him in there and locking the door.

In the morning he had a horrible ache in the pit of his spine and on the balls of his knees. Though he’d just woken up, he felt exhausted. For a long time just laid in bed not thinking of much of anything at all. Then the alarm on his cell phone went off and he forced himself out of bed.

Continue reading The Locked Door – Day 2

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The Locked Door – Day 1

The Locked Door is a five-part work-in-progress that I intend to upload bit by bit over the next few weeks. This is not a final draft.

THE LOCKED DOOR

Down the decayed wooden steps, in the deep dark of the basement there was an old wooden door. It was carved out of thick oak planks withered into rotted tatters through years of deterioration and decay. A faded coat of fire brick red paint had slipped and left colourless streaks and scratches in its place. It was split with crooked tremors and black holes torn by termites and vermin. The smell of rot emanated out of every inch of it.

On the edge of the door there was a round iron handle that had corroded to a dead red shade of rust. And there below it was an old brass keyhole no wider than a man’s thumb.

Continue reading The Locked Door – Day 1