Episode Eleven: The Red Door
633 Words
Maya’s hand remained on the doorknob.
Her mother’s voice came from the other side.
“Maya… I’m still here.”
Maya’s eyes filled with tears.
Ellie stood behind her.
“Don’t open it.”
Maya turned.
“You told me to open it.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you stopping me now?”
Ellie looked toward the red door.
“Because something has changed.”
“What?”
“The house knows you’re awake.”
A deep rumble moved beneath their feet.
The walls began to pulse.
Like a heartbeat.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Maya stared at the door.
“What happens if I open it?”
Ellie whispered:
“You’ll see the truth.”
“And if I don’t?”
“The house keeps your mother forever.”
Maya closed her eyes.
Then she turned the handle.
The red door opened.
Cold air rushed past her.
There was no room behind it.
Instead, Maya saw a long hallway stretching into darkness.
Pictures covered the walls.
She stepped inside.
Ellie followed.
Behind them, the red door disappeared.
Maya stopped.
“We can’t go back.”
“No,” Ellie said.
“We can’t.”
They walked deeper.
The photographs changed as they passed.
Maya saw her mother as a child.
Then as a teenager.
Then as a young woman.
Then pregnant.
Maya stopped.
Her mother was standing beside another woman.
The woman was holding a newborn baby.
Maya looked closer.
The baby had a tiny scar above her eyebrow.
Maya’s scar.
Her breath caught.
“That’s me.”
Ellie shook her head.
“No.”
Maya stared at her.
“That baby isn’t you.”
Maya looked back at the photograph.
The woman holding the baby was her grandmother.
But her mother was standing beside her, crying.
Written beneath the photograph were the words:
THE FIRST DAUGHTER WAS NEVER MAYA.
Maya’s stomach dropped.
“Then who was?”
Ellie didn’t answer.
Another photograph fell from the wall.
Maya picked it up.
It showed two babies.
One was crying.
The other was completely silent.
Both had the same face.
Maya looked at Ellie.
“Which one am I?”
Ellie’s eyes filled with tears.
“You’re the second.”
Maya stepped backward.
“What?”
“The house took the first one.”
A voice echoed through the hallway.
Her mother’s voice.
“And I brought you here to get her back.”
Maya turned.
At the end of the hallway stood her mother.
But this time, she looked human.
She was crying.
“Maya.”
Maya ran toward her.
Her mother caught her in her arms.
For the first time in seventeen years, Maya felt the warmth of her mother’s body.
She sobbed.
“Mom…”
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Are you really here?”
Her mother pulled away.
“Yes.”
“Why did you let me believe you were dead?”
“Because the house was listening.”
Maya looked around.
“What does it want?”
Her mother glanced at Ellie.
Then she whispered:
“It wants you to choose which daughter gets to leave.”
The hallway went silent.
Maya looked at Ellie.
Then at her mother.
“I don’t understand.”
Her mother pointed behind Maya.
A second red door had appeared.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
Each door began opening slowly.
Behind every door stood a different version of Maya.
A child.
A teenager.
An old woman.
A woman covered in blood.
All of them stared at her.
Then they spoke together:
“Choose.”
Maya’s mother grabbed her hand.
“Whatever happens…”
She looked terrified.
“Don’t choose yourself.”
The doors slammed shut.
And one final voice whispered from inside the walls:
“Too late.”
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