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Lock Your Door - Horror

I write classic "good vs evil" creative writing pieces with smart twists inspired by vintage action cinema, gaming, and heavy metal.


A bright sunny day in New York and the air had excitement spread like perfume - it was just a week away from Anam's wedding. The Pakistani girl was still a fresh graduate in English Literature and she had everything set; a loving fiance who was also her best friend in university, a supportive family back in Islamabad who were arriving soon to see their pride and joy start a family. She took it all in, sitting on a soft pink sofa, studying wedding dress catalogs as memories started making their way into her thoughts.

The girl grew up in Dubai, UAE where she had many school friends, most of them still being in touch via social media. Most were already married and some even had kids of their own. Anam's already big and kind heart warmed further as she recalled the times she and her friends would skip classes they hated, go for epic shopping trips in the marvelous city's malls.

However, there was something she repressed, someone who was always in the darkest corners of her mind. Someone she'd rather forget and never has met altogether. This someone even visited her in her rare but powerful nightmares. The girl never saw what it looked like but she always woke up feeling cold, tired, shocked and hearing sounds as if she sat next to an operating assembly line in a car factory.

The Pakistani girl closed the catalog, got up and just as she began moving towards her laptop on the kitchen table, a knock on the door broke the atmosphere. Anam walked slowly towards the door, repressed memories still haunting her.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"NYPD, ma'am." a male voice replied.

Anam opened the door and saw a tall, well-built officer who had a concerned look and a somewhat nervous disposition; the man looked like he saw a ghost.

"Miss Hyder," the cop began, "I am Officer Rigotti; sorry to bother you this early but this is a serious matter and I have to ask you a couple of questions."

Anam was shocked but she co-operated, letting the cop in; he closed the door behind and without further formalities, he took out his notepad. Flipping through the pages he found a couple of photographs; selecting one and before revealing it, he said;

"Miss Hyder, this matter is highly confidential and concerning only you, the NYPD and the FBI!"

Anam's confusion grew exponentially but she nodded in agreement, this encouraged the cop to carry on; he handed her the photos.

"Does it look familiar?" the cop asked.

Anam could not believe her eyes, her repressed memory was looking back at her from a high-definition photograph; looking scarier than her nightmares previously. What looked at her was barely human where the only natural features were hazel eyes and a sarcastic sneer. Aside from those, the person looked like he fought industrial machinery with metal shards protruding from his deathly pale skin, the chest was sliced open to reveal a set of cogs, wires and the right hand was replaced with what looked like a pipe wrench. It was a surveillance photograph so some details were obscured by darkness. The person resembled an "it" more than a "he" since the humanity seemed to be cut away and haphazardly replaced.

"The FBI warned us about it," the cop carried on, "it became too dangerous."

"How does it concern me?!" Anam demanded as her heart made cracks in her chest; thumping fast and loud.

"Many tried to kill it and it just kept coming back." the cop suddenly clasped his holster, desperately scanning the area as if he was in a jungle war zone. "We don't know how it got here but whatever you do, don't leave your flat after 1 a.m, lock your door and sit quietly!!!"

Anam figured how this concerned her, the photos showed the person from her repressed memory. Covered in darkness, humanity ripped violently away, it was just like her nightmares. The cop was gone after he scanned the place again, ordering her to remain in her flat and lock her door tight.

Hours past and it was night time, Anam couldn't sleep; not after what she heard from the cop. She was a late sleeper but now, she was on the edge; to the point when her fridge made her jump as it rumbled. As the night went on and the Pakistani girl started drifting off to sleep, she heard a knock on her door. Her heart jumped to her throat, gripping the blanket closer, she held her breath. Afraid to make a sound.

"Don't let it hear you!" her mind repeated. "It is outside, you are inside, no sound, no one is home, no one will open!" More knocking ensued, Anam's mind answered, "Till I hear breaking, I am safe; it is there, you are here."

The knocking continued and Anam's brain repeated the same mantra multiple times with a new addition: "The neighbors will force it away, they all have work tomorrow and the knocking is not letting them rest!"

"Anam open up!" she heard a heavily accented Filipina girl's voice on the other end, "Don't you recognise me from school?!"

"Marie!" Anam's mind exclaimed, "How?!"

The girl slowly began to crawl to the door, not making any sounds, "She is back in the Philippines!" her mind began rationalising, "She'd tell me days in advance if she wanted to visit!"

"Anam, I am so tired and got these heavy bags here!" the voice continued only this time, it sounded more confrontational; as if she got badly insulted.

The Pakistani girl's nerves tightened up again as she progressed towards the door's eye; dreading to find out what was on the other side. Rightfully so because what was there is what she feared the most. Wires snaking along its body, gears spinning and "hands" feeling the door around. That thing didn't look like it could talk let alone in her friend's voice.

Anam slowly shuffled away from the door, heading towards her bed. Suddenly, her spine froze and insides tightened up.



© 2018 Jake Clawson

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