Chapter Three: The Door Beneath the Library
1676 Words
Maya stared at the door.
The librarian’s warning echoed in her head.
Don’t go downstairs.
Three knocks had come from beneath the floor.
Then silence.
Maya swallowed.
“What is down there?”
The librarian didn’t answer.
“Mrs. Bell?”
The woman shook her head.
“You need to leave.”
Maya glanced at the basement door again.
The old brass handle was covered in scratches.
Some were shallow.
Others looked fresh.
“You said I opened that door before.”
Mrs. Bell’s eyes filled with fear.
“I said the last time you opened it, someone disappeared.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know.”
“I don’t.”
“You told me I asked you to forget.”
Mrs. Bell looked away.
Maya stepped closer.
“Why would I ask you to forget something?”
“Because you were frightened.”
“Of what?”
The librarian finally looked at her.
“Of yourself.”
The words hung between them.
Maya felt a strange chill.
She wanted to laugh.
She wanted to tell the woman she was crazy.
Instead, she looked at the photograph still clutched in her hand.
Seven children.
Six missing.
One returned.
Her.
Except Maya had no memory of any of it.
She slowly reached for the basement door.
Mrs. Bell grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t.”
Maya looked down at the woman’s hand.
“Let go.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because you made me promise.”
Maya’s heart skipped.
“I made you promise what?”
Mrs. Bell released her.
“That if you ever came back, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
The librarian’s lips trembled.
“The truth.”
Before Maya could respond, the basement door clicked.
Both of them froze.
The handle moved.
Slowly.
Downward.
Maya stepped backward.
Mrs. Bell whispered something under her breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
The handle stopped.
Silence.
Then—
Knock.
Maya stared at the door.
Knock.
A third knock.
Knock.
Mrs. Bell backed away.
“Go.”
Maya didn’t move.
“There’s someone down there.”
“No.”
“Then what is knocking?”
“I don’t know.”
The handle moved again.
This time, the door opened a fraction.
A thin line of darkness appeared.
Cold air spilled into the library.
Maya felt it against her face.
And then she heard a voice.
Barely louder than a whisper.
“Maya?”
Her entire body went rigid.
The voice came again.
“Maya…”
She knew that voice.
She didn’t know how.
But she knew it.
She took one step toward the door.
Mrs. Bell grabbed her shoulder.
“No.”
Maya turned.
“Who is that?”
The librarian’s face had gone completely white.
“You heard nothing.”
“I heard my name.”
“You heard nothing.”
The door suddenly slammed shut.
Maya jumped.
Then everything went silent.
Mrs. Bell hurried to the door and locked it.
One lock.
Then another.
Then a third.
Maya stared at her.
“How many locks does that thing have?”
The librarian didn’t answer.
Maya’s phone buzzed.
She pulled it out.
Another unknown message.
YOU HEARD HER, DIDN’T YOU?
Maya’s fingers tightened around the phone.
A second message appeared.
SHE’S STILL DOWN THERE.
Maya looked at the basement door.
Then at Mrs. Bell.
“Who?”
The librarian closed her eyes.
“The seventh.”
⸻
Maya left the library ten minutes later.
She didn’t remember saying goodbye.
She barely remembered walking outside.
The sky had darkened.
Rain had begun falling.
She stood beneath the library’s awning and looked across the street.
The town suddenly felt different.
Every window seemed to hide someone watching.
Every passing car made her tense.
She pulled the photograph from her pocket.
Seven children.
Six names.
One girl without a name.
Maya.
She turned it over.
The handwriting on the back was still there.
SHE WASN’T THE ONE WHO DISAPPEARED.
If that was true…
who had disappeared?
Her phone buzzed again.
This time it wasn’t an unknown number.
It was her mother.
Where are you?
Maya stared at the message.
She typed:
At the library.
The reply came almost immediately.
Come home. Now.
Maya frowned.
She typed:
Why?
The typing bubble appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then vanished.
No reply.
Maya put her phone away.
Something was wrong.
She started walking home.
⸻
Her mother was waiting at the front door.
She looked furious.
But underneath the anger was something else.
Fear.
“Where have you been?”
“The library.”
“I told you not to go there.”
Maya stopped.
“You never told me that.”
Her mother’s expression changed.
For one second, neither of them moved.
Then her mother said quietly:
“I meant I didn’t think you should go.”
“No.”
Maya stepped inside.
“You knew.”
“Knew what?”
“You knew about the six teenagers.”
Her mother went still.
Maya watched her carefully.
“And you knew about the girl.”
“What girl?”
“The seventh.”
Her mother’s face lost all color.
Maya’s stomach dropped.
“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Answer me.”
“Maya—”
“Who was she?”
Her mother looked toward the staircase.
Then the windows.
As if checking whether someone was listening.
“Not here.”
Maya laughed bitterly.
“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”
Her mother grabbed her arm.
“Listen to me.”
Maya pulled away.
“No.”
“You need to stop asking questions.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re looking for.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re my mother.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you lying to me?”
Her mother stared at her.
“I’ve been trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
Silence.
Maya felt her anger beginning to fade.
Something about her mother’s expression made her nervous.
“Mom?”
Her mother looked toward the window.
“There are things about your childhood you don’t remember.”
“I figured that out.”
“Not like this.”
“What does that mean?”
Her mother took a shaky breath.
“When you were seven, something happened.”
Maya waited.
“What?”
Her mother looked directly at her.
“You disappeared.”
Maya’s blood ran cold.
“For how long?”
Her mother didn’t answer.
“Mom.”
“Three days.”
Maya stared at her.
Three days.
She tried to imagine it.
A seven-year-old version of herself wandering alone for three days.
But there was nothing.
No memory.
No image.
Nothing.
“Where was I?”
Her mother closed her eyes.
“Near Blackwater Lake.”
Maya stepped backward.
“No.”
“You were found on the shore.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
“We never found out.”
“You said I disappeared.”
“I said we never found out how you got there.”
Maya’s voice dropped.
“And the six teenagers?”
Her mother didn’t respond.
Maya already knew the answer.
“They disappeared the same night.”
Her mother nodded.
Maya’s heart pounded.
“What happened to them?”
“We never found them.”
“Then how did I come back?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who found me?”
Her mother hesitated.
“A boy.”
Maya froze.
“What boy?”
“He was one of the six.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“But you said they disappeared.”
“He was there when you were found.”
“Then why isn’t he in the reports?”
Her mother looked terrified.
“Because he disappeared the next morning.”
Maya couldn’t breathe for a moment.
The boy from the forest.
The boy at school.
The boy who told her she needed to leave.
She looked at her mother.
“What’s his name?”
Her mother shook her head.
“Maya…”
“What is his name?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears.
“His name was Ethan.”
Maya’s mind went blank.
She looked down at the photograph.
The first name on the list.
Ethan Vale.
One of the six missing teenagers.
But he was alive.
Maya had spoken to him.
She had seen him.
She was sure of it.
Her phone buzzed.
Maya pulled it out.
A photograph had been sent to her.
She opened it.
It showed her house.
Taken from somewhere across the street.
Taken only seconds ago.
Maya’s stomach tightened.
There was someone standing outside the house.
A boy.
Dark hair.
Black jacket.
Ethan.
Below the photograph was a message.
DON’T TELL YOUR MOTHER I FOUND YOU.
Maya looked toward the window.
Across the street, there was nobody there.
She looked back at her phone.
Another message appeared.
SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT.
Maya’s eyes widened.
Then a final message appeared.
BUT I DO.
The lights in the house suddenly went out.
Maya froze.
Her mother whispered:
“Maya…”
From upstairs came a sound.
A slow creak.
Then footsteps.
One.
Two.
Three.
Someone was walking down the hallway.
Her mother grabbed Maya’s hand.
“Don’t move.”
The footsteps stopped.
Silence.
Then a voice came from the darkness upstairs.
Soft.
Familiar.
A girl’s voice.
“Maya?”
Maya’s heart stopped.
She knew that voice too.
And this time, she remembered where she’d heard it.
In a dream she’d been having since she was seven.
The same dream.
The same lake.
The same seven children.
And the girl standing behind them.
The girl who looked exactly like her.
“You promised you wouldn’t forget me.”
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