by Aaron Polson
“We found it just outside the bathroom on the second floor,” he said.
“Did you try the door?” Erin asked.
Johnny looked up, his eyes open wide. “No. The door was locked. Ben said so. I didn’t even think about trying it. Besides, why would he—”
“We need to look,” Kelsey said. Her own voice surprised her, firing quick, cold shafts of ice through her chest. “I don’t remember it there earlier. But the lights were out when Sarah and I came down. God… We need to look in there. If he’s hurt or had an attack—”
“You’re right.” Johnny stood. “I’ll go.”
“We’ll all go.” Sarah said. “And if any crazy shit has happened up there—I’m out of this fucking place.” Her eyes met Kelsey’s. “I’m cruising pretty close to my limit already.”
Kelsey followed the group, one foot after the other, trying to break the latest infusion of ice in her body. Her fingers shook as she pushed her curls behind her ears. Nothing crazy could have happened in the bathroom. It was locked. Ben said so. He said so… Didn’t he? Howard just left his belt when he went… Where? She looked up, surprised to be standing on the second floor landing. The house was so quiet. So calm. So perfectly clean. Nothing bad could have happened at all. Her feet pulled her toward the bathroom. Toward the door.
A slight clicking noise met her ears. The hinges did not creak as it opened.
“Unlocked,” Johnny said.
There was a thick, quiet moment without any other sound.
Sarah broke the stillness, saying, “Holy shit. It’s not even the bathroom.”
And it wasn’t. Before them, the door opened to a small room. The floors, hardwood like the other rooms, spread out in polished, immaculate condition as though they’d been resurfaced within the month. The walls wore paper with subtle, yellow flowers. It reminded Kelsey of the room she shared with Sarah, the yellow room, but less abstract. A single, naked light bulb hung from a dark cord which ran into the ceiling. Johnny flipped the switch, and the yellow flowers almost seemed to pop from the walls.
Across from the hallway door, another door, this one closed, faced them.
“That door,” Johnny said. “I don’t remember that door.”
“I don’t remember any of this. This was the fucking bathroom. This is where we found the old dead dude. Right fucking here.” Sarah’s voice had begun to shake as she spoke, and both hands wagged in front of her. “You never forget something like that. Right here.”
Kelsey backed away from the door. She felt the hard press of the hallway wall on her back. The bathroom door framed a bright, yellow glow which seemed otherworldly, unnatural. Voices pooled into a murmured puddle.
There was another door in that room. A door none of them remembered.
And where was the bathroom?
Part 3: Rats in a Maze
Chapter 22: Tipping Points
“That’s it. I’m done. Twelve grand is a nice, hefty sum, but I’m not playing around with a house that has magic fucking doors and disappearing rooms. I’m not paying any games with this supernatural bullshit.” Sarah pushed past Erin and made for the stairs. Her eyes caught Kelsey’s as she passed, both of them near black and full of fear.
Kelsey felt it, too.
Unsettled. Confused.
She grabbed Sarah’s arm. “Stay. For now. I need my roommate. I don’t think I can be in the yellow room without someone else.” She offered a forced smile.
“Kels… This is over the edge. What the fuck happened to the bathroom?”
“I don’t know… I don’t know…”
Johnny knelt just over the threshold and examined the room. “Calm down ladies. One of Ben’s gimmicks. I bet he had it removed.” He ran his hand over the floor. “It’s smooth. Feels like it could have been refinished recently.”
“The whole house kind of looks brand new,” Erin said. “I’m not an expert or anything, it just seems untouched. Like the lack of squeaking stairs.”
“What about that door?” Sarah asked. “I don’t remember that door, Johnny. Kels?”
No, the door had not been there five years ago. Kelsey knew it as well as Sarah. She knew it deep inside, tucked away in the folds of her brain like any fragment of truth held in memory. Regardless of Johnny’s assessment, the floor hadn’t been refinished, not by Ben or his production crew—he didn’t even have a production crew, just the two cameramen and Howard. Kelsey knew it; she knew something was off in the house. Her forced smile slipped away.
“That’s it then? Ben playing tricks?” Sarah shook her head. “I don’t buy any of it.”
“Why don’t we try the door?” Daniel’s usually soft-spoken voice was firm. “The other door, in the back. It has to lead somewhere in the house.”
Johnny stood, swept the small gathering with his blue eyes, and stepped inside the room. Something broke as he did, like an invisible bubble or pane of atom-thick glass. Kelsey looked down and realized she’d been holding Sarah’s arm. She let go, and white finger marks filled with color. Johnny was intruding. He shouldn’t have stepped into the room.
“Looks okay in here,” Johnny said. He turned and beckoned with one hand. “C’mon in, the water’s fine.”
Erin obeyed first, followed by Daniel. Of course they went, not holding the same memories which swirled in Kelsey’s brain. She closed her eyes and saw the room as it was five years ago. She could still see the drawn, horror-stricken look on the dead man’s face and the long, bloodless gashes on his arms. She could see those things like they sat in front of her now. Her hands covered her face, and she pressed her eyes closed, trying to find another image, anything to block the memory. She thought of her father. She tried to find his face, but nothing came.
“Kels?” Sarah touched her shoulder. “What’s up?”
“My dad. I can’t remember what he looked like. I can’t see his smile or remember the color of his eyes.”
“Your dad?”
“My dad…”
“What happened, Kels?” Sarah’s voice was sweet.
“He—he died two weeks ago. I didn’t want to say anything.” Kelsey pulled her hands away from her face. Tears had begun to well in her eyes. She felt a sob clog her throat. “I didn’t want to do this.”
Sarah hugged her. She put both hands around Kelsey’s back and pulled her close, squeezing until Kelsey felt the press of Sarah’s breasts and her own lungs burned.
“Oh honey. Nothing is worth this agony. You and I will hit the road. Find a nice café and eat until we feel like exploding.” Sarah frowned. “Sorry… Not a funny joke.”
“Ben has our keys and cars,” Kelsey said.
“Easy enough. We should jet before the snow gets any worse.” Sarah stomped down the hall toward the stairs.
Johnny said something, but his voice was lost to the throb of blood in Kelsey’s ears, a thick, rhythmic thump which wiped away her ability to focus. The world blurred. Shapes moved in the non-bathroom. Kelsey pulled herself away from the others and hitched onto Sarah’s trail. It was time to go. Howard was gone. Time to leave before the house swallowed another of them whole.
Ben was at the base of the stairs, just inside the foyer. One of his hands was still on the knob. He pulled the door shut and took a step toward the ladies. “Where are you going?”
Sarah grunted and pushed past him, heading for the door. Ben’s face shifted away from its Hollywood façade. He turned to Kelsey.
“What’s going on?”
“We found your little trick on the second floor,” Kelsey said.
The door clicked open. Sarah paused, staring at Kelsey.
“Second floor? Did you find Howard?” Ben asked.
Sarah stepped away from the door. She hadn’t crossed the threshold yet. Kelsey was watching; she watched Sarah stop just before breaking the invisible plane which would have taken her out of the house and burned up her chance at the money. Cold air meandered over the threshold.
“No,” Sarah said. “But the second floor
bathroom—what the hell did you do to it?”
“What are you talking about?”
Kelsey edged down the final steps and moved behind Ben. The front door was open a crack, and through the opening a sliver of white world could be seen. The snow was coming faster now—big thick flakes falling, falling… Snow spread in a blanket at least one or two inches thick. It would blow and drift over the road.
“I locked it, Sarah. Nothing more.” Ben’s face had gone pale. “What’s wrong with the bathroom?”
“It’s gone.” Sarah said.
Kelsey worked her fingers around the doorknob. Sarah had stepped away, closer to Ben.
“Gone?” Ben asked.
“Gutted. It’s an empty room. Nothing.”
Kelsey opened the door, held her breath, and stepped outside. She moved quickly. Once she’d made the decision, she didn’t hesitate. She couldn’t hesitate. The winter air wrapped her arms and legs almost immediately. Gooseflesh sprouted on her exposed skin. She took a few, wobbling steps onto the porch. The white world outside the house forced Kelsey to shield her eyes. Even with the lights inside the house, gloom and shadow clung to the interior. Outside, with the snow-covered ground, she was blinded.
Ben crashed through the door and skidded past Kelsey, stumbling down the stairs until he stood in front of her, blocking her path.
“You can’t go,” he said.
“What? Did the highway patrol shut us down already? It’s not snowing that hard.” Sarah stepped through the door and moved toward the edge of the porch. She held out a hand, and caught a few fat flakes to prove her point. “I’m not going to hang out after what you did in the bathroom.”
Ben’s face went slack with confusion. “Bathroom? What’s this crazy talk? I figure you two were going because of—”
“The second floor bathroom, Ben.” Sarah pressed her fists into her hips, arms bent at her sides. “You had the tub, the sink, the toilet—everything removed. And what’s with the door? You freaked me out with that one.”
A gust of wind kicked up a swirl of snow across the front lawn. The iron-grey clouds hung low and heavy, menacing with an impending barrage of snow to shame what had already fallen. Kelsey hadn’t seen winter clouds so menacing since they skidded into the ditch five years ago. Since Jared vanished. She edged back toward the front door, feeling behind her for the opening. Maybe she shouldn’t have stepped outside, but now it was too late. What was done, was done.
“We didn’t do a thing to the bathroom.” Ben shook his head. “I thought locking the door would, you know, amp up the mystery. I didn’t think… Well, I didn’t think anyone would want to use it, given the history. We didn’t do a thing to it. The bathroom was there last week, before you came. I—”
“Consider the mystery amped,” Sarah interrupted. “Amped me and my friend Kelsey here right out of the fucking house. Where’s our cars? I want to fire mine up and get the engine warm. Kels is going, too.”
Kelsey shook her head. “Those clouds,” she said.
Ben turned, tilting his face skyward. His lips fell into a frown, at least enough of a frown for Kelsey to register it as such.
“Throwing off your plans?” Sarah asked.
“It’s going to dump on us,” Ben said. “It’s December. It never snows this much in December. Not like this.”
“Blame it on global warming or climate change. Whatever.” Sarah folded her arms and stepped off the porch. Her feet sank into the new snow. “Where’s the cars, Wormsley?”
“The cars are…” His gaze flicked between Sarah and Kelsey. “Somewhere else.”
Kelsey pushed the door. A warm puff of air escaped into the frigid outdoors. “Where?” She asked. “What have you done?”
“They’re in a little town. Muskotah. There’s a tow service we paid to watch them for the week.”
A small, growl-like sound escaped Sarah’s mouth.
Kelsey glanced over her shoulder, examining the darkness in the house.
“We’ll take the RV, then.” Sarah set her jaw.
“Kelsey.” Lines spread around the edges of Ben’s face. “Please reconsider. The weather…”
“You go in there, Ben Wormsley. You check out the bullshit in that bathroom.” An infusion of anger rattled through Kelsey’s bones. “You see what we saw—the bathroom, empty. There’s an extra door in that room, Ben. It wasn’t there before. Something is wrong.”
“A door?”
“A door where the exterior wall should be.” Kelsey’s hand dropped from the front door.
“That’s impossible…”
“That’s what I said.” Sarah waved her arms. “So hook us up with the RV keys and we’ll get the whole bunch on the road.”
Another gust of wind stirred a wide swirl of white. Kelsey shivered, a pure, unrestricted reaction to the cold. Neither she nor Sarah had taken their coats when they decided to warm up the cars, cars to which they had no access. Snow had covered the ground, now, all except for longer strands of stubborn brown grass which reached from mounds of white.
“We should go inside,” Ben said. “Wayne… He has the keys to the RV.”
“Where’s Wayne?” Sarah asked, one foot on the bottom porch stair.
Ben nodded toward a stand of trees behind the RV. The trees were not much more than a grey smudge against the heavy white. “Out there. Looking for Howard.”
“You’re kidding.” Sarah brushed snow from her shoulders. “This is a joke, right?”
Ben shook his head. “I’m afraid not. But they’ll come in, soon I expect, and we’ll get out of here, okay?”
“What about your little radio?” Sarah asked.
Ben shrugged. “Dead. They went dead when this storm kicked up. We stopped getting any signal, even from each other. I don’t understand it.”
“Great.” Sarah stomped up the stairs, passing Kelsey. She paused just inside the door. “Just fucking great, Ben. We’re trapped in hotel hell, again.”
After Sarah disappeared, Ben’s eyes met Kelsey’s. She saw terror in his eyes, as real as the flakes gathering on the grass or the cold, dead grey fingers of the trees beyond. Real fear, the uncontrollable thing which nibbled the edges of reason and seeded doubt in even the firmest minds.
“I didn’t plan any of this, Kelsey,” he said. “Please believe me.”
Chapter 23: Flight and Failure
Ben lay on the couch, eyes closed, with his hands folded over his face.
“Start from the top, Mister Wormsley. Explain what a brilliant idea it was to have us trapped here—to lock up our damn vehicles in some bum-fuck Egypt impound yard.” Johnny’s nostrils flared when he spoke. “Because right now, with this snow storm and no way out, you’ve really fucked up.”
“It’s not an impound yard,” Ben said. “It’s just a tow service. I just—”
“Does it matter?” Sarah asked. “We’re stuck. Until Wayne and Larry—”
“Nick,” Erin said.
“Whatever.” Sarah scowled across the room at Erin. “Until they come back with the RV keys, were done. Locked up until God knows what happens to the rest of us.”
“No other autos?” Daniel asked. His brown eyes pled; Kelsey felt the fear and hurt.
“Nothing but the RV.” Johnny leaned over the back of the couch. “We could hotwire it.”
Ben sat up. “No. It’s a rental—”
“And I want out, Wormsley.” Sarah kicked the couch. “I don’t care if you lose your precious deposit. This snowstorm isn’t letting up, and we have no way of knowing how long it’s going to last. I don’t want to be stuck here any longer than I have to be.”
“You were ready to stay for a week when it meant twelve thousand dollars.” Ben rubbed his neck. “Now, you want out? Nothing’s changed.”
Kelsey had been moving toward the window across from the couch. She paused, fingering the long curtains. The sky had begun to deepen outside, hinting at sunset even though the heavy clouds covered the sun. Snow continued to fall, a stead
y tumble of fat, white flakes.
“I know I want to leave, Ben.” Kelsey tapped the window. “The snow isn’t stopping. We’ll be stuck here, for good, if your camera guys don’t get back soon. They’ll be popsicles if they don’t return, too. What time is it?”
Erin produced her cell phone. “I have 4:35. At least the clock still works. I don’t even have a roaming signal out here.”
“None of us do,” Johnny said.
“What about food, Ben?” Sarah asked. “Will Mr. and Mrs. Small Town be able to deliver?”
Ben rubbed his forehead. “Deliver… I don’t know. We have a little food, some cans and boxed stuff, in the pantry. Not enough to keep us going for the week, but we won’t starve.”
“Won’t starve? Wonderful. So we might be eating crackers tonight, everyone.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Sounds tasty.”
Kelsey pressed her palm against the glass. She felt a quick jab of cold dance through her arm. A vision of Jared—Jared as she remembered him five year ago—flashed through her mind. He was cold, the blue-white of a frozen man. Dead. They had to leave. She turned around. “Johnny, if you can hotwire the RV—”
“I can try,” he said. “I figure it’s a shot.”
“Maybe our only shot,” Sarah said.
“Shot for what?” Erin asked.
Kelsey turned to her. “Get out. Get some contact with the outside world at least. Ben?”
“I don’t know why you want to go…”
Sarah kicked the couch again. “Don’t be an asshole. If you didn’t do anything upstairs… If you can’t explain it, I’m not sticking around to find out who or what can. That’s just fucked up.”
Ben stood. His mouth opened and he held up a hand, but stopped short of protesting. He slumped back onto the couch, defeated, and propped his head in his hands. “Do whatever you have to,” he muttered.
~
Kelsey, Sarah, and Ben watched as Johnny worked under the big vehicle’s dash. Ben clutched a flashlight and knelt next to the door, shining yellow light toward the broken-open steering column. A few wires trailed from the opening.
