"Uncle AJ!
Uncle AJ! Who is this woman at the door? I don't like her." Andrew (Andrew
Junior or AJ to close family) bent down to see what his little nephew was
pointing at. He was babysitting his nephews for the day as his sister and her
husband were both going to be busy with work. AJ was an amateur photographer
(or so he liked to think, his friends and family didn't think that was a job).
"What's that little man?" he asked Sam, the younger of his 2 nephews.
"Where is Simon?" Here, readers can rightly deduce that Simon would
be the older of the kids. Sam was pointing at a corner of the picture he had
just developed. It was a picture of his room. He moved into his new place
(room) a week ago and was still chuffed about it. His old landlord had kicked
him out of his former place, telling him the room was needed for something
else. Being on a shoestring budget, it took him almost a month to find
alternative arrangements. He found this place just when he was about to give up
and move back in with his folks. He was the black sheep of the family. His
father was constantly on his back, telling him to get a 'real' job and make
something of himself. AJ had studied engineering mostly to please his
parents...he hated the course. The price had been much less than he anticipated
and he almost snapped off the agent's hand when he was told how much he would
have to pay as rent.
The camera too, was an unexpected bonus...he found it
lying at the bottom of a dusty shelf in a corner of the room. Much to his
surprise, it still worked, so he had amused himself by taking shots of the
room, the kitchen and the bathroom. Sam's voice interrupted his reverie "I
don't like this woman at the door uncle AJ, she's scary" Sam's finger was
pointing at the back door of his room. The landlord had told him the door was
always locked, that it was originally built as a sort of emergency exit or fire
escape but the key had been missing for a few years. It was one of those old,
heavy doors, built (in his reckoning) to withstand a minor earthquake. "What
woman? It's just a door there lil' buddy" he said to Sam. "Come on,
let's go outside and get your brother...who wants ice cream?" Simon's
voice floated in through the window "me! I want ice cream!" Laughing,
they all hurried to the end of his street, where an ice cream shop was nicely
positioned. He didn't mind watching the kids for his sister, he was fond of
both boys as they were of him...they thought the world of 'Uncle AJ' and his
photographs always held a magical form of amusement for them. Of course, the
regular ice cream treats weren't to be sneered at too, so it was perfect for
the kids. In the evening, his sister came to pick them and after solemn
handshakes, AJ promised to come and visit the next weekend.
The pictures were
lying on the bed and he picked them up to arrange them in the box he usually
kept his 'work' when they were developed and dried. In his hurry, he almost
missed it. Hullo, what was this? The handle of the back door seemed to be bent,
as if someone was trying to open it from the outside...or was closing it. It
was angled and HE could see it clearly in the picture. The back of the house,
where the door opened to was covered with a thick, tangled mess of weeds. He
didn't think anybody would be walking through THAT, let alone trying to open a
door that was always locked. He looked up, the door was still firmly shut. In
the fast approaching darkness, the door seemed bigger than it actually was. He
looked at the picture again and he would later on swear that he saw the handle
move even more, almost angling towards opening point. AJ flung the picture away
and rushed to the door. The handle was static. HE was being silly he thought.
When he picked up the picture again, the handle was as it should be, in the
locked position. "Well, there you go, my mind is playing crazy tricks on
me." Putting the box away, he sat down to read a book before he would turn
in for the night. Instant darkness enveloped his room. "PHCN" he
cursed. There was a rechargeable lantern at the side of his bed and he groped
for it in the dark. There! What was that sound? It sounded like metal scraping
against metal...they needed oiling. It seemed to be coming from the back door.
He moved towards the door and he heard the sound again. The handle was turning!
"Who's there!" he shouted. The handle stopped. Silence. Then a
scratching sound and a low, blood curdling moan came from behind the door. The
handle was turning again, this time faster. He looked up, the door was still
bolted. Good. Let the handle 'turn' all it liked. Someone was probably playing
a silly trick on him. He was going to open the front door stealthily to go
around and catch the prankster in the act when the scraping sound started
again. THAT was not the handle turning...that was something else! He was suddenly
sick. He knew what that sound was now, hadn't he heard it several times growing
up? The bolts to his dad's store had rusted and made those sounds whenever they
were opened. The bolts of his door WERE moving. With an urgency born of
primeval fear and unspeakable fright, he groped for the rechargeable lantern in
the dark. He KNEW he had to put on the light. There WAS something out there
trying to get in. Instinctively, he knew if it got in, IT was going to eat him,
suck out all the marrow from his bones and discard the empty husk that was once
human. He HAD to find the lantern. THUD! The first bolt was open. Now the lower
one started to move...
Lovely short story by Marcel. Enjoy!
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