The Vanishing Door
Lena had walked past the alleyway a hundred times before, but tonight,
something was different. A door stood where there had never been one. It
was old, wooden, with a brass handle that gleamed under the streetlight.
She hesitated. Curiosity gnawed at her. With a deep breath, she reached for
the handle and turned it.
The door creaked open to reveal a dimly lit room filled with bookshelves
stretching endlessly in every direction. A soft glow pulsed from the walls,
as if the place were alive.
“Hello?” she called.
No answer. She stepped inside. The moment she did, the door slammed
shut behind her.
Panic rose in her chest as she turned back, but the door was gone. Only
more shelves.
Lena wandered deeper, her fingers brushing the spines of books. Each had
a name written on the cover. She froze when she saw her own.
She pulled it out, flipping through the pages. It detailed her life, every
moment she had ever lived. But as she turned to the last page, her breath
caught.
The final sentence read: She turned the page and vanished.
A chill ran down her spine. And then, she disappeared.