He was carrying a key.
A black, old, long key with strange teeth—the kind used for very old houses… or for doors that were never meant to be opened.
He walked to the nightstand, opened the bottom drawer, and took out something wrapped in cloth. He unwrapped it slowly.
A small glass vial.
Inside were white pills.
My throat went dry.
“Just valerian.”
I watched him put the vial back, as if hiding a secret in his pocket. Then he approached the bed and leaned over, studying my face.
I held my breath.
Daniel took my wrist, checking for a pulse.
One.
Two.
Three seconds.
He smiled, satisfied, and stood up.
Then he did something that chilled my blood even more than the pills.
He walked toward the wall.
The wall next to the wardrobe.
He ran his fingers along it, like someone who knows exactly where the seam of something hidden is.
He pressed.
A small click echoed in the darkness.
The wall… moved.
It wasn’t a normal door.
It was a panel.
A section of wood identical to the wall, so perfectly concealed that in all my years living there I had never noticed it.
Daniel pushed the panel and a narrow gap appeared, just wide enough for a thin person to pass through.
Beyond it there was no wall.
There was space.
A narrow, dark passageway that smelled of dampness and dust.
Daniel stepped inside.
Before closing it, he whispered something… as if speaking to someone in there.
“She’s asleep.”
The panel closed.
I lay frozen in bed.
My head was buzzing.
Suddenly, the house was no longer a house.
It was a stage full of traps.
A body full of hidden organs.
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