THE DARK ROOM

CHAPTER 1: THE EMPTY HOUSE My name is Amara, and I should be dead by now. The house at the end of Adebisiyi Street has been empty for three years. Everybody says not to go near it after 6pm. A girl died inside, and her spirit locks the doors from inside. I never believed it until today. My landlord gave me quit notice. Rain was falling and I was dragging my bag along the street with nowhere to sleep. Then I saw the house. The gate was open. Light was shining from the window upstairs. "Hello? Anybody dey house?" I called. No answer. But the door opened by itself. I entered because of rain. That was my first mistake. The parlour was dusty. There was a chair, a table, and a big mirror covered with white cloth. On the table, there was a key and a note that said: "DO NOT ENTER THE DARK ROOM." Which dark room? There were three doors. Two were open. The third door was painted black and locked. Then I heard footsteps upstairs. Gbo gbo gbo. Coming down. "Who dey there?" I shouted. The main door slammed shut by itself. GBAM! I was trapped. I felt cold breath on my neck. A small girl whispered in my ear: "You should not have entered." I turned. Nobody was there. But the white cloth had fallen from the mirror. In the mirror, I saw a girl standing behind me with blood on her white gown, smiling. She was holding the key. She pointed to the black door. The black door opened by itself. Inside was pure darkness. And from that darkness, something was calling my name. "Amara... come inside..."