Locked Doors - (Thriller/Horror)
The doors were always closed and rarely unlocked. Wind howled through cracks as the floor creaked beneath tiny socked feet. Three stories tall with over fifty rooms, Eva's home was more of a mansion. She ran her fingers idly along the paneled walls between doors, memorizing the dark grain under layers of dust. Most of the help had left after her father came back; those who stayed only did so because they had no where else to go. The walls were papered darkly and had faded so that the pattern was no longer discernible. Eva gently rattled the next door handle while softly calling for her mother; she heard a response about as often as she found an unlocked door. One after another came up closed, locked and silent.
As soon as Eva heard the drunken rumbles coming from where her father slept, she froze; they were a fearful reminder of why she was kept at the other end of the house. She was given food and water on a tray by people she did not know who were dressed all in white. They reminded her to keep calm and to herself so that no harm would come to her. She trusted them about as much as she trusted her loathsome father. She couldn't remember a time when he wasn't drunk and angry. More often than not her door was kept as tight as the ones she now tried to open. It was like walking in circles, trying to open the same door and coming to the same barred conclusion as the last round. The scars on her arms and shoulders reminded her daily of what would happen if she was caught wandering the halls. He always left her face alone though; he said that with so little brains he would let her keep whatever beauty she had, which was more than he could say about her mother. Her father had a pattern, a routine as it were, of beating and drinking and yelling and drinking which would occasionally resulted in a drunken stupor that allowed Eva to slip into the cold dank halls in search of her mother.
It never used to be that way. Eva could faintly remember a time when it was just her and her mother in a small, cozy apartment downtown. She could do whatever she wanted to around that home. When she asked about her father she would get the same flat response, “He's at work, you know he works far away,” which was always followed by some idea of what Eva and her mother could do for fun that afternoon. They picnicked, watched movies or sometimes just had quiet time alone for the evening. It seemed to Eva like her father's work must be very important if he was always so far away and she wondered if her mother was ever troubled by it; she never seemed upset, so Eva simply assumed it was a normal part of family life. That was a thing of the past now, Eva contemplated as she traced the painted features of a kindly looking old woman in a portrait near the stairwell. A discontented snort brought Eva back to the present as she heard her father roll over in his sleep only a few doors down.
With one quick gulp Eva's breath was gone and she had to remind herself to inhale as the lengthening moments made her chest feel like it would implode. All was quiet, so she continued down the forsaken hallway reminiscing of the times when she looked forward to her father coming home. She would only see him briefly before being swept off to some family friend's house for reasons unbeknownst to her; They made all sorts of excuses. At first she was upset at missing the opportunity to see him but with time she realized that his presence was rarely pleasant and after a few minutes greeting she was aching to leave. He always seemed a little wobbly and he smelled of the liquor he now swam in but Eva was naive to the reasons behind those hints then. She only found out later that her mother wished she could join her when she got to escape. There was no escaping now, every door was locked tight and Eva's hope of finding her mother was diminishing more and more quickly as she approached the end of the hallway. Only a few doors left.
The day Eva saw the true side of her father was one she would never forget. Eva was playing with her mothers old clothes in the back of their closet and she stumbled on an old, tattered photo album just before one of the rare arrivals of her father. It was filled with lovely, antique, faded pictures of people she never knew. Women in long, dark dresses and men in dapper suits, even a few children wearing a mix-match of clothing that befitted the time frame of the photos. She now saw many of those, now familiar, faces on the dirty walls of her dreary abode. As she progressed through the album though, the pictures become more and more modern until she finally reached a young character that she thought she recognized.
The boy who caught her eye looked as well groomed as the other three in the photo, who she could only assume were her grandparents, as well as another older boy she had never seen before, but her father's expression set him apart. While the others were smiling proudly in front of the house Eva now called home, her father was staring sullenly, almost spitefully, in another direction. The pictures to follow held the same theme until she found, nearing the end of the book, a final picture of the older boy, now grown into adulthood, with a beautiful young lady and a babe in arms standing in front of the big old mansion. After that, there was nothing.
Curious, she went to show her mom what she had found and to ask her about the people she had seen. As she turned the corner of the short walkway from the bedroom to the living room she ran head first into her father. Falling backward, the album tumbled out of her grasp and remained open to the last picture in the book. Her father's expression changed from surprised and bleary-eyed to furious faster than Eva could register what had happened. He grabbed the book and Eva in two large clamp-like hands and charged, growling into the living room where her mother was just getting off the phone. By the time Eva was flung violently onto the love seat, tears stung her eyes and her arm was red and already starting to bruise. The book, however, went flying in the opposite direction and struck her mother square in the nose causing a rush of blood so startling to Eva's young eyes that she sat stunned for a moment before bringing herself to rush to her mother's aid holding the blanket from the back of her seat.
Enraged and hysterical, her father ruthless began howling out at her mother that if how his older bastard brother was so perfect, she should have married him. He was swearing and breaking things and throwing items as Eva and her mother sat huddled in a small corner of the living room couch. Eva didn't understand everything that he said or much of anything that was going on but she did gather some useful information that day. Apparently her father resented his older brother for his expertise in life and the social sphere as children which turned into a deep seated hatred when, as the eldest, albeit illegitimate, son he had inherited everything from their parents while her father had to make his own way.
With the house a rampant mess, Eva and her mother were more than pleased to set it straight after the quick departure of the horrific beast that had just torn through it. Her mother's nose was swollen but the bleeding had stopped. It was all too soon after that terrifying meeting that Eva was forced to get used to the sad sight of her mother's tortured body. She learned quickly how to tenderly care for her mother's hurts as she was never allowed to stay with friends during her father's visits ever again. She only found out later, during one of her mother's strong moments, that, in truth, the older brother only inherited their parent's wealth under the expectation that, with his doting heart, he would take care of the younger, seemingly troubled, brother. Unfortunately, past grievances, false assumptions and a twisted disposition made her father too proud to accept the support. So, soon after his parent's death he ran off, cutting ties with all of his family and he suffered begrudgingly for it.
It made her shiver, even as Eva walked through the old mansion's haunted halls, to think of how they had managed to come to own this dark place. A handful of short months after she got to see the true image of what sort of man her father was, he came strutting into the house unexpectedly and smugly flung a piece of official looking paper toward where the girls were sitting. Eva's mother tentatively picked it up and quickly scanned the type-font. Looking up quizzically from the sheet she was going to ask a question but before she could even open her mouth, Eva's father said, “pack up, all of it, let's go to the home that was rightfully mine from the beginning.”
He looked too happy and content with himself, Eva recalled, and to this day she never heard of what had happened to the loving family that had once called the ancient mansion home. Her mother advised her never to ask. Still, as she walked silent as ever through the expansive corridors, checking over her shoulder at every unheard whisper, she knew that showing her father that album those many days ago had tipped the wrong twisted domino. She knew that he had done something awful after he left that day and that it may never have happened if she hadn't of been looking at that god-forsaken album. With soft steps, Eva crept from one closed door to another, hoping and dreading that she would be able to see her mother again. It had been over three weeks since she had been able to find her and sit with her; she just wanted to hold her hand for a while. Last time she was barely able to touch her because of the state her body was in. Her mother had looked like another creature with all the bruising and swelling across her face. Once she had realized that Eva was in the room, her distress was intolerable and Eva was forced to flee in fear that she was the one causing her mother's pain.
She realized too late that her mother was actually warning her. Moments after she had rushed out the door, her father came stomping after her with a long knife in his hand and a look of outright madness on his face. Further horror-struck, Eva's tears ran in horizontal streaks across her temples as she sprinted to the end of the hall but her fathers long legs soon caught up with her and the next thing she knew she was dangling by an arm over the high railing of the topmost stair. He held her with one hand under her bicep as her fingers clutched desperately at her father's arm. He snarled curses at her and dug his own nails into her armpit, letting blood trickle down her side.
“You want to look like your mother, you little sneak?”
“I ju-just wanted to see-- I heard noises. Please!” Eva's sobs turned to a long screech as she was wrenched back onto the landing by her hair.
“You heard noises? I'll give you noises!” With one long sweep of his hand Eva's back turned to hot coals. He grabbed her hair once more and sheared off the bulk of it, leaving her writhing on the floor.
“Your pretty little face wont save you next time with a mop like that.” He spat and walked away. Not long after, one of the strange people dressed in white hauled her into her own bed and locked the door.
Her back still hurt as she wandered the halls in the dark but the cut wasn't as deep as the others had been; he had gone easy on her. Besides, she wanted to see if her mother was okay, regardless of the risk.
Eva's slender white fingers trembled as she tested the next door. With a slight click the handle turned and the door noisily squeaked open. Eva held her breath for the second time. She froze in place as she waited and listened for the worst. She was ready to run at any hint of having woken her father. Nothing but the whispering echoes of wind pushing through ancient windows could be heard, yet she stood sentinel for more than five minutes just listening.
Once she deemed it safe to proceed she turned her gaze on the interior of the room. It was dark, even darker than the hall, with shadows overlapping shadows. The room smelled musty and looked to have been used for storage for the last hundred years undisturbed. The space was daunting and unapproachable but Eva had found her mother huddled in stranger places hiding from her father's wrath. Somewhere, a soft ray of blue dawn was peeping through a heavy curtain and landed on a half covered, dusty old mirror. The reflections of which played evilly on the already fearsome shadows, giving them gruesome faces and monstrous stares; but it wasn't those types of monsters or ghouls that she feared in this old house. Looking to cover the mirror fully with the sheet that hung from it's ornate frame, Eva quietly weaved her way through the shaded jungle, always keeping her eyes peeled and her ears perked, ready for anything.
She had to step on her tip toes in order to reach the sheet on the mirror which put her face right in the line of light, blinding her momentarily. She leaned a little farther to unhook the sheet where it had caught on a wooden fixture above but that sent a spasm of renewed pain in her back that resonated from shoulder to shoulder which caused Eva to loose her balance until she was able to catch herself on a stack of mouse-eaten hat boxes. With a sigh of relief she brushed a small strand of dark hair out of her face, grateful for its newly shortened length.
Eva's eyes had just about adjusted to her dim surroundings as she righted herself and peered into the mirror. A shiver ran down her spine when she saw what looked back. Glistening eyes peered out of an obscured silhouette. She wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the light's reflection. How long had they been standing there? Had they seen her? Eva stayed perfectly still to await her fate, ever watchful through the mirror, but the shadow didn't budge. It just stared and stared. Perhaps it was just an old mannequin or dummy of some sort. Finally, Eva got up the courage to turn herself around and approach the object. She immediately regretted it when her footfalls loosened whatever restraint was holding it in place and it came crashing down on top of her.
Eyes wide with fear Eva saw all too clearly her mother's sea foam eyes rushing to meet hers. The collision was brutal as gravity thrust the dead weight of her mothers body against her little frame. Stiff, cold limbs felt like lead as Eva struggled beneath the corpse to no avail. Blood was trickling steadily from a gash on her face, heating her cheeks with the slick pulsing liquid. Her back shrieked unrelentingly.
If the resounding crash hadn't woken her father, Eva's mighty sobs and panicked efforts to free herself would. The greenish hue of her mother's skin was frightening— and the way she just stared and stared. Eva could hear footfalls slowly stumbling down the hallway, each sending a renewed sense of anxiety through her. She pushed and wriggled and fought for her freedom until she was slick with sweat and blood and sick to her stomach. The smell of her mothers rotting flesh was deep in her nostrils, forcing her to gag and choke as time slowed and dread encapsulated her very soul.
Moments later her father was there. Illuminated in the morning light coming though the hall window. Even from where she lay, helpless as she was, she couldn't have mistaken his look of disgusted satisfaction that followed his gaze down his nose as he sneered at her.
“If I remember correctly, you wanted to see your mom...”
“Help me. Please. I can't --” Eva was choking through her sobs.
“Well, here's your chance. No, don't get up. Take your time and enjoy this moment you have together.” He smiled and closed the door as Eva started screaming. She didn't know how long she had been yelling but she was sore all over when the people in white came and made the world go black.
When she awoke the world was white; blurry, but white. Heaven. She lay still and waited patiently as her eyes focused and a dotted ceiling came into view. The lights were dim but clear and the walls awash in the same coloured eggshell paint as the ceiling. She was in a warm but stiff bed with an odd looking frame.
A sound to her right would have made her jump but it seemed like someone had turned her muscles into jelly for the time being, so she slowly turned her head to face to noise. Noises, I heard noises! Fear griped her for an instant and she held her breath. A short, tender looking woman was quietly making her way to Eva's bed. She held a leather bound folder and wore a light blue collared shirt with nicely pressed cream coloured skirt. Her glasses were slightly too big for her face but the lines around her eyes made her seem kind enough. Eva released her breath and looked at her cautiously. The woman took a small chair from somewhere and sat diagonal to the bed. She smiled as she greeted her in a familiar tone.
“Eva, I'm glad to see that you've returned to us. I was beginning to think I wouldn't be able to talk to you again any time soon.”
Her smile was knowing but Eva's confusion only made the room spin so she remained silent.
“You've been having a bit of a hard time these past few weeks and I'm here to help you. Do you know where you are?”
Eva thought for a moment. “Heaven?”
She chuckled, a nice but somehow sad sound. “No, no, this isn't heaven Eva. You are at Saint Valerio's Psychological Institute; a place intended to help people in need.”
Confusion washed over her again. “How did I get here? Did I do something wrong? Where's my mother? Oh god, does my father know I'm here?” Eva tried to sit up in the bed, her heart racing as crisp linens roughly brushed against her bare arms. A blue gown was all she wore except for the white and yellow bracelets on both of her wrists. With a firm but gentle hand the woman held her shoulder and ushered her back into the bed.
“You've been here for a while now Eva, you have nothing to fear. Everyone here is trying to help you.” The woman heaved a long sigh and, sitting a little straighter, seemed to resign herself to starting over. “I'm Doctor Payat and I have been meeting with you for almost four years now. You have been through a very traumatic experience and we, everyone here at Valerio's Institute, are trying to help you to recover from it. Rest assured, your father is in prison a long way away and cannot harm you anymore.”
“In prison?” She could hardly believe it.
“The authorities received notification from some teenagers, approximately four years ago, who were wandering through the woods near the old house you were living in. They reported hearing an endless stream of loud, horrific screams in the area. They said that it sounded like a child might be hurt so the police were dispatched immediately.” He took a long look at Eva, imploring her to continue the tale if she could.
“They found me, didn't they? And mother? They found my father too? Are you sure they found him?” Eva had played her father's games before; he liked to be in control. Was this another game to him? This was risky business.
“As I said, your father is imprisoned. You have nothing to fear.”
Eva raised herself slowly this time, looking around the room anew. It was small and furnished sparsely, but clean and bright. She peeled her legs out from under the sheets and stood, feeling like a fawn in spring. Eva walked carefully around the doctor, breathing in the possibility that her nightmare might actually be over. She let herself smile slightly and made her way to the heavy door in the corner where the doctor had come in.
Slowly, timidly, Eva reached for the handle and gave it a slight turn. Locked. Raising her gaze she saw the doctor's reflection in the glass window of the door. She had the same eyes as her mother. All of a sudden the room became dark and all she could see were those sea foam glassed eyes. Collapsing, she screamed and the people in white came again.
