The Wrong Door

The torrent wind swept the few remaining leaves from barren tree limbs. The cold was vicious, without a single ray of sunshine to bring any warmth.

Rayne Justice zipped her coat to her chin and wrapped her pink knit scarf around her neck. She looked at the gray sky from the window on her door and sighed.

"It's a chilly day, Warrior," she said to her Doberman. He cocked his head and sat at her feet. Completely oblivious to what his owner was talking about. He whined and pawed at her snow boots.

Rayne slid on two fuzzy white mittens and patted the crown of his head. "I know big fella," she smirked. A neon yellow leash was latched to Warrior's studded black collar.

She pushed the door open and instantly, her teeth chattered. Warrior shook off the cold and led her forward into the wintry evening.

The wind blew through her clothes. Despite being bundled head-to-toe, she felt the chill nip at her skin. As she walked alongside her sniffing pet, she tried to focus her attention elsewhere. On the leaves blowing from lawn to lawn. At the desolate decaying homes surrounding her own. Not having any neighbors had several perks, but it was equally eerie.

She peered into the dark windows of the house adjacent to her own. Her reflection stared back at her. The reflection's ghoulish eyes and horrid frown made her quickly look away.

Warrior continued to trot before his owner, who nervously followed. Rayne tugged at his leash and uttered, "come on War."

The cold was manipulating, tugging at her overactive imagination. It wasn't the first time she created vivid scenarios using the venerable, neglected homes eyeing her every move. She was quite use to the twisted tales her mind invented, especially on mysterious evenings—much like this one.

At the end of the road, Warrior looped and began his walk towards his own domain. Rayne was eager, and quickened her steps to keep up with her canine.

"Help!"

Warrior froze. Rayne whipped around at the sudden sound being carried by the wind.

The child's voice was barely audible and appeared to come from every direction.

"Help me! Help!"

Warrior snarled.

Rayne huddled her arms over her body as she listened closely. "It's in your head, Rayne." She started to walk again, pulling at Warrior's leash to follow. "It was nothing... no one lives here anymore... it's just me and Warrior."

"Help meee!" The voice pleaded in response. The blood curdling call made Rayne jump. The hairs on her neck stood on end. The cry sounded closer. It was as though it was coming from right over her shoulder...

Her eyes slowly trailed to the behemoth of a home she stood in front of. Warrior barked violently towards the front door. Yanking the leash as he stood and snapped on his hind legs.

"Warrior," she pulled back. "Stop this—"

Warrior lurched forward, freeing himself from his owner's grasp. He raced up the hill, rammed through the wooden gate door, and around the side of the house to the backyard.

"Warrior!" Rayne cried. His obnoxious barking was incessant. She followed with slow unsteady steps. "Warrior, here boy!" Her feet stopped before the picket fence—stained yellow from age. With a shaky hand, she eased the gate door open and timidly followed Warrior's tracks.

"Warrior?" Her voice was soft. She was trembling, but not from the cold.

Her pet responded with a low growl. His menacing snarl was pointed at a bright blue door. The paint appeared fresh; the stream of fine hairs from a paintbrush was still apparent on its frame. It juxtaposed to the large deteriorating house. The small windows were cracked, like someone had once tossed tiny pebbles in hopes of getting someone's attention inside. The color of the home was faded, and peeling. Nature was reclaiming the property. Overgrown grass reached the porch steps. Vines snaked up the siding and came intertwined over the back door. The grasp of the vining resembled spiny fingers interlocking together.

Rayne quickened her steps at the sight of Warrior. "Bad dog," she hissed as she snatched his leash resting on the icy, brown grass.

The door creeeaked open slowly. Warrior whimpered and paced as Rayne looked fearfully at the mouth of the old home. A long dark hallway appeared beyond the door; it looked as if it went on forever.

Her grip tightened around the leash. "We're going home," she began as she started to turn; however, the moment her foot pivoted, Rayne's nose hit a wall, covered in stripped wallpaper.

Quickly she jumped back. "What..." Her eyes scanned her surroundings. Suddenly, she found herself inside; standing in the very hall she had just been peering into.

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest; it was the only sound she could hear in the silence of the dark hallway. The many layers of clothing she wore was now causing her to sweat. Her gloves felt as though they were sticking to the slickness of her palms.

Warrior whimpered as his owner frantically walked towards the door at the end of the hall. Her breaths were heavy as she started to run.

She reached for the doorknob, twisted, and fell forward. Hoping to be back in the shivering cold.

However...

Rayne's hand came up to her mouth when she noticed that she was now standing beneath a large canopy of trees. The cold was replaced with a thick, damp heat. The sounds of the jungle woke and echoed around her: chirping, buzzing, squawking, and the most terrifying—deep overlapping howls so loud she had to cover her ears.

The floor rumbled. The trees surrounding her shook violently. The howls intensified as the creatures of the jungle neared—smelling the fear wafting from Rayne.

Rayne quickly stepped back, and went for the door handle that she had just turned only seconds ago.

But, the royal blue door was no longer. Instead, an immense forestry labyrinth replaced it and stretched as far as eyes could see.

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Thank you for reading. This short story's ending is up to you! What do you believe will happen to Rayne and Warrior? Will they find their way home? Or are they trapped forever?

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I look forward to reading your work, too. :)