The Red Door

Preview

In a cobblestone alley there was a round red door. Soft, chilly sleets of snow fell to the ground delicately in the small Paris village. Wrapped in layer upon layer of woolly clothing I made my way through the powdery snow, leaving foot prints twisting in a swerving line. Polished black street lamps lit by candles glowed a luminous gold, glowing through the monotonous greys of the dull winter. The Bryant family house had no inhabitants for 7 years since the youngest daughter, Maria had committed suicide and the memories of the young 14 year old engulfed the family entirely to the extent they moved far away.

I stood in the downpour of fresh snow remembering the girl with ebony hair, a complexion as pale as milk and the sweetest heart, known as Maria. My feet moved from where they were rooted to the ground, stuck in memories when I saw the lace curtain swiftly shift. Quiet noises escaped from the house to be released into the icy atmosphere. No one could be in there, I told myself. It was just the wind. But I was unconsciously sliding towards the door cautiously and my hand connected with the door handle.

Pushing the door open with a rusty squeak, scurrying feet ran up a spiralling staircase, spreading dust. The empty house lacked character from the small amount of inhabitants. Cupboards and drawers were wide open, some hanging loosely off their rusty hinges. Sounds banged loudly upstairs and then there was a blood curdling scream that was as loud as a banshee's shriek. My feet instantly scrambled towards the spiral staircase. Tripping over each stair in my state of terror, I noticed with every amplified moan, shriek and scream, plaster and dust would tumble from the roof like a waterfall.

Entering the sunlight bathing the second floor a horrible sight met my eyes. Maria was sitting in an old dusty chair, strapped in like a feral animal. A piece of black tape was stuck across her mouth and her eyes were as wide as golf balls. She screamed into the tape making the house rock uncontrollably, clapping my hands to my ears trying to escape the noise, a trickle of blood flowed from my ears, making my hands sticky with the scarlet liquid. A man with bushy eyebrows and a pink scar across his forehead appeared from a doorway.
"Get away from her you idiot", he said sternly. The mysterious man went over to an oak wood table with odd medical instruments, on the table lie: an odd looking drill stained with red blood, a large pair of tweezers and a tool kit teaming with needles, knives, jars of concoctions and other mysterious instruments that I know I've never seen my local GP possess. Underneath the table was a grotesque amount of tissues drenched in a black substance.

The man hustled over carrying his tool kit of medieval punishments. Maria shuddered in pain, that's when I realised that her once wavy hair was matted and sticky with blood. She howled in pain as the strange man tried to usher me towards the door but then her eyes widened and the tape began to curl up and fray away. The man's bushy eyebrows knitted together as the Last scream parted Maria's lips. With a harsh push from the mysterious man I went flying through the air, the whole house quivered. Maria's deafening scream continued until the light left her eyes and her head lolled back, unconsciously. She drew in her last shaky breath, her vocal chords smashed to oblivion. The man who had cruelly "experimented" on her lie dead on the floor in a pool of his own blood, his face was contorted into the monster he always was. The only object still intact was a creepy clown doll lying on the floor wearing a mischievous smirk. Then there was a sudden gasp for air and Maria's eyes opened, full of life.

But that's only the beginning of what was to come......