scary story Chapter 3: Man in her dream left footprints

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Rojie started the ball rolling by suggesting her prompt of “Tell a scary story“. This is a psychological thriller type of horror story.

Chapter 3

This room! It is bare. It looks exactly like the previous room. She escaped the previous room, only to enter into another room exactly the same as the one before.

She decides to begin her search in the anti-clockwise direction. Rotating in the clockwise direction was not lucky in the previous room as she had to complete one exhausting round before she chanced up the trapdoor at the border of the skirting.

She used her former method of feeling the walls for mechanisms. She worked on the first wall, then second, third and fourth. Nothing gave.

She is exhausted. She sat down against one wall and leaned back. Looking around, she sees every wall looks the same. She’ll have to start searching wall to wall. When will all of this end? She regrets going to the cafe’s rooftop. Her ordeal started there, when she fell through a floor trap camouflaged by artwork. She feels so frustrated that she starts to cry. Crybaby, she scolds herself. She closes her eyes to rest, catch her breath, calm down and gather strength to continue her mission of breaking out of this trap of the second room of blank walls.

She nodded off. Suddenly, she saw a man talking to her. She doesn’t know him. Then, they are walking along a beach. Excuse me, she says to herself. She remembers she’s trapped in a room. How does she even begin to walk on a beach? How did that man get into this room to talk to her? If he can enter, there is a entrance, from which she can exit. She opens her mouth to begin to ask. There is a sound of a distinct pop. She wakes up! That man was in her dream. Crap. Since she dreamed him, he didn’t enter the room and she has no means of using his entry as her exit.

She wishes it was not a dream. She wishes the man was real. She looks at her feet. They are clean. There is not a grain of sand on them. She stares intently at her feet and then the floor beneath her feet. She sees a pair of faint, large, dusty footprints near her feet. The prints were so large that they had to belong to a man. She feels her heart skipping a beat. That man in her dream! Maybe he really came and made foot prints.

Strange, the prints do not lead anywhere. It looks as if he was standing in just that spot. What is so special about that spot? What does he see when he stands there? She tries to get up on her feet. Her body aches with pain. She has been sitting too long on the hard floor and leaning against the hard wall.

She gingerly steps into the pair of footprints. No sooner has she done so, the floor rumbled beneath her. A trap door slid open and swallowed her up. She slid down a long tunnel chute. She remembers the feeling when she used to play on the slide in the playground. Whoosh. Her feet lead the way. Then her feet pushed open a swinging flap that resembled a pet door. She is out of the tunnel. She is on the floor of a room.

Not any room. In a kitchen. It is the kitchen of the cafe. She has to pinch herself. She made it out of the crazy rooms.

The chef and cooks stare at her.

“Where did you come from?” asked the chef.

“I must have fallen down here,” her tone is apologetic.

“Well, outsiders are not allowed in the kitchen. I’ll have to ask you to leave,” the chef frowns as he says this.

“I’m going,” she says as she struggles to her feet. She staggers to the door and walks out into the cafe. She walks straight out through the front door.

O, the joy! She seldom knows the exhilaration of joy when she experiences success, victory and freedom from imprisonment. She is speechless. She can’t even describe joy. She promises herself she would research on concrete expressions of joy when she gets out of here.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

Related:

This series is meant to be a psychological thriller.

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