Brenda hesitated before placing her hand on the door handle. It was cold—too cold.
She pulled back immediately. “Nope.”
Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “What do you mean ‘nope’?”
“I mean that door feels like it’s storing ghosts inside a deep freezer, and I’m not in the mood to get frostbite from haunted air.”
Hassan scoffed. “We don’t even know if ghosts get cold.”
A voice behind them muttered, “They do.”
Everyone turned.
It was Wachira. Holding a steaming cup of tea.
Jeremiah blinked. “Where did you even—”
Wachira took a slow sip. “Some things are better left unquestioned.”
Brenda groaned. “Fine. Then someone else can open this one.”
Hassan sighed dramatically and stepped forward. “You’re all acting like these doors actually matter.”
He gripped the handle and yanked it open.
There was nothing.
Just a void of swirling darkness.
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Hassan leaned forward slightly. “Huh.”
Then the void blinked.
Jeremiah grabbed Hassan’s collar and yanked him back just as the darkness reached out.
The door slammed shut.
Everyone stood in silence.
Then Hassan nodded. “Okay. Yeah. That was a bad door.”
Brenda groaned. “They’re all bad doors.”
The Mayor, still grinning, clapped his hands. “Wonderful! That means you’re making progress.”
Jeremiah threw his hands up. “Progress towards what?”
The Mayor winked. “Discovery.”
That wasn’t reassuring.
---
One of the strangers, a woman with bright red braids, had been silently observing.
Now, she stepped forward.
“Enough of this. You’re all acting like this is a game.”
Jeremiah pointed at the Mayor. “That’s because he’s treating it like a game.”
The Mayor nodded. “Everything is a game if you play it correctly.”
Brenda massaged her temples. “I am two seconds away from throwing you into the void.”
The Mayor chuckled. “That’s the spirit!”
She glared. “Not the time.”
The woman with braids ignored them. Instead, she pressed her hand against a plain-looking door, one of the least suspicious ones.
“It’s warm,” she muttered.
Hassan leaned in. “Good warm or ‘I just put my hand on a possessed oven’ warm?”
She didn’t answer. She just opened the door.
A thick orange glow spilled out.
Everyone peered inside.
It was… a kitchen?
A fully stocked, completely normal-looking kitchen.
Jeremiah squinted. “That… actually looks safe?”
Then, from deep inside, a voice called out:
“Finally! Took you long enough.”
Everyone froze.
The woman with braids slowly turned. “Who said that?”
A man stepped into view.
He looked completely ordinary. Normal clothes. Normal face. Except his eyes were completely blank.
Wachira took a slow sip of his tea. “Oh, wonderful. More nonsense.”
Jeremiah glanced at him. “Can you take this seriously for one second?”
“I am. That’s why I’m drinking tea.”
Brenda ignored them. She focused on the man. “Who are you?”
The man smiled. “I live here.”
Brenda frowned. “In this… kitchen?”
“Obviously.”
Hassan muttered, “That’s not obvious at all.”
The man sighed. “Listen. You people are wasting time. If you want to get out, you need to—”
The door slammed shut.
The woman with braids jumped back. “What the hell?!”
The Mayor clapped his hands. “Ooooh, unfortunate. That was almost useful.”
Brenda turned to him furious. “What. Just. Happened?”
The Mayor shrugged. “The house changes. If you’re too slow, it takes the choice away.”
Hassan groaned. “I hate it here.”
Jeremiah crossed his arms. “So, we’re just stuck playing door roulette until something works?”
The Mayor grinned. “Yes.”
Brenda exhaled sharply. “Great. Just great.”
Then, before anyone could stop her, she marched to another door… and flung it open.
The last thing they heard was the sound of something laughing.
Then everything went dark.
End of Chapter 8
---
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