Page 5 - Chronicles of Darkness

“3B? I didn’t know there were apartments down here.”
The number looked like it had been carved into the
door with a knife, exposing some red-brown interior
wood. Mena raised a hand to touch it.
“No.” Dawn grabbed Mena’s hand and started pulling
her away. “No, this door is weird and it’s not the right
one anyway. Let’s go already.”
“Dawn, it’s just a door. It couldn’t be touching you back.”
She stepped back toward the door. “Aren’t you the one
who’s always saying we should, you know, examine
our world? I’m going to test your hypothesis that this
ordinary door is covertly feeling the hands of teenagers.”
Its surface seemed to ripple slightly, smoothing into
something that almost looked like wood grain.
“Look! It moved! Didn’t you see it move? Ximena Luisa
Salazar, there is something made of skin and old
clothes that is chasing us. It seems like a bad time for
you to demonstrate a sudden interest in skepticism!”
Dawn started dragging Mena back away from the door.
As she did, a tiny tendril of something wood-colored
stretched off the surface of the door toward Mena’s
hand. Dawn shrieked and pulled Mena so hard they
both fell over.
Mena staggered up and helped Dawn to her feet. “Okay,
I’m going to tentatively confirm your hypothesis that
this is a totally weird door and we should run.”
“Thank you.”
“Little rats, little rats, what are you doing in my
basement?” The voice seemed to come from the walls
themselves, dry as old paper and matte quiet, without
even an echo to point to where the old woman might
already be standing.
They spun, waving the flashlight around them.
“Oh, shit,” Dawn whispered.
For all her shaking, Mena spoke up first. “It’s our
basement too, you know. We live here. We’ve got just
as much of a right to be here as you.”
TEN MINUTES AGO...

Dawn swung her flashlight around the room once
more. “Mena, I don’t think there’s anything down
here. Just a bunch of spiders and broken furniture.
Why hasn’t your dad cleaned this out yet? There’s
practically a whole new unit.”
A voice from the hallway called, “Too close to the
laundry room outtake, it kept getting mildewy and no
one wanted to stay there.” She poked her head through
the doorway. “Gross, it even smells mildewy in there.”
“What am I looking for again?”
“Anything of Jenna’s. I dunno, earrings or a school
book or her stupid pony pen case.”
There was a clink and a roll and Dawn’s flashlight
skidded to a halt. “Butterflies?”
“What?” Ximena started walking into the room.
“Did she like butterflies?”
“Yeah, I think she collected them or something. Why?”
Dawn gestured down to the jar of butterfly wings
rocking against the concrete. They took reflexive