One Wrong Turn

Chapter 4

There stood the house from his dream. Every detail the exact same. He couldn't believe it. Houses didn't just appear overnight, they took time to build, not to mention how worn down this one was, it was definitly not just built.

He walked cautiously up the sidewalk to the porch, stopping at the steps as he was hesitant. Placing his skateboard down, he approached closer to the front door. He reached out a shaky hand to the rusty knob, giving it a turn and yanking the door open, his eyes shut. When he opened them, he did not see the void he had stared into before but a normal house entryway. Exactly, a normal one. It was dusted, brand new wood, shiny even, not a thing was out of place. An elegant table was beside the staircase, a note placed on top of it. He reluctantly placed a foot inside, than the other, and closed the door behind him.

Turning around to face the door, he saw that the inside of the door was not crooked or even remotly off. No paint chipped, a fresh coat even, the knob was not even hinted with rust, and the window beside it not even cracked or smudged. But something off happened, the windows seemed to darken. He squinted his eyes wondering if the sun was going down, but that was impossible, it was mid-day. He rubbed it a bit, but the window only got darker until it was pitch black.

He then heard a click sound, and he turned his head to see that the door had locked and the lock had disappeared before he could reach for it. He trembled a bit and heard someone in the distance. Faded but still there, he could only make out his name. He shouted back but it seemed to no avail. As the voice drifted away and got smaller and smaller, he noticed the light from all other windows fading and he knew then it must be the void from his dream.

He shook more and glanced around to try and find a way out, but all too soon the windows darkened to black and all light left the room. He reached around the door, feeling for a light switch and found it, flicking it on and the lights flickered a moment before fully shining bright. He let his eyes adjust to the new lighting. The room had changed to be more of a hallway, but the same table remained, along with the note.

The staircase was now in the center of the hall, just in front of the door, as well as it had gotten wider. The table sat beside it, only moved slightly. On his left he saw an archway and some tile along the walls, which he presumed to be a kitchen. He glanced to his right and saw a step up onto a carpeted floor with a calm color of paint on the wall, he assumed it was some sort of living room or family room. Lastly he glanced up the stairs and saw four closed doors.

After looking around a bit he decided to pick up the note, his hands shaking a bit, making it harder to read.

Welcome to my playground

you're my new plaything

take a look around

at the end, I'm waiting.

He was confused by the note, which seemed more like a riddle. He shook his head and placed the note down, which immediately looked as if ink had spilled out of the words, filling up the paper and turning it black. He stared at it a moment and rubbed his eyes. My eyes are just playing tricks on me, he thought. It's not real.

He looked back at the paper to find it the exact way it had been, but a gust of wind from no where lifted it and carried it to the kitchen. His eyes followed it before his nose brought him to he room. He smelled something amazing being cooked, and he had forgotten to eat this morning.

He entered the doorway and glanced around. There were piles of food everywhere. His mouth watered at the delicious smell of it all flooding his nose. He moved around he room, looking for what he should pick. He saw different food fit for any meal: Steak, eggs, toast, bacon, pasta, and anything you could imagine. It was a feast.

Was this a reward? For what? He asked himself. He didn't think it mattered, so he moved to go dig in, without any plates or silverware, he just wanted to eat. Something held him back though, looking at the food, it seemed too unreal. All this just being here...he pulled back and glanced around. Then he spotted the pancakes. At first he scowled, but then curiously walked over to them, seeing the  ink soaked paper underneath them.