Chapter 2: The Morgue

   Weak morning light trickled into the room, exposing the light blue walls and a beautiful painting of a tree with small, colorful birds, on the far wall. I loved it, the room was perfect, and it even had a huge walk-in closet.

   I sat on the bed, and pulled my iPod out of my purse and blared some of my favorite scream and metal songs.

   I looked up, and the door opened just a crack. I paused the song, and listened.

   “Mom?” I called slowly, my voice shaking with fear. There was no answer. I quietly got off my bed and made my way to the door. I slowly opened it, and peeked around the hall. No one was there.

   “Mom?” I called, walking into the hall and down the stairs. She was at the door, struggling with her arms full of boxes.

   “Morning honey,” she smiled. “Can you lend me a hand, then I’ll make some breakfast.”

   We hauled in all of our stuff from the truck, then we made Canadian bacon and omelets.

   “Why don’t you go get your room all organized, I’ll clean up,” she suggested as soon as we were done.

   I went to my room and started to unpack. Soon I noticed my laptop was missing.

   “Hey Mom?” I called downstairs.

   I jumped when a voice behind me said “Yeah?” It was Mom, busy setting up her jewelry box on op of her bureau.

   “Did you see my laptop? I’m sure I packed it.”

   “Did you leave it downstairs?”

   I ran downstairs and started looking through the boxes, with no luck. I was about to head back upstairs when I heard a crash from the basement.

   I crept down the squeaky, wooden basement stairs. I turned on the lights at the bottom of the steps and scanned the room over with my eyes. On the floor, next to a pair of closed wooden French doors, was my laptop. It looked like someone had dropped it out of a box and onto the floor. I quickly inspected it; No harm was done. I stood up facing the wooden doors, one opened just a crack. Curiosity got the best of me. I pushed open the door, it creaked slightly. The first thing I noticed were the glass bottles on the other side of the room, sitting on a high shelf. Dust coated them so much you could hardly make out what they said.

   The second thing I noticed was, what looked to be, a mortuary table. It was metal, and spun around 360 degrees, any way you wanted. On it were some pretty gruesome tools. Most of them had sharp ends and one looked like a larger version of an exacto knife, with a much sharper blade.

   “Whoa,” I breathed, as I picked up a surprisingly shiny and large knife. I saw my caramel brown eyes stare back at me. Still staring at my reflection, I saw, right behind me, a black flicker of what looked like an arm. I froze, my body and mind went completely numb.

   Until there was a slam. I jumped ten feet, and dropped the knife, making a loud bang as it hit the wooden floor. I whipped around, but all that was there was air and dust. And a closed door, that I knew I left open.

   Slowly I walked over to the heavy wooden doors, with a fear in me I had never experienced until now. When I went to grab the rusty door knob, it turned beneath my hand. By itself.