I Opened the Forbidden Door. Now I Can’t Leave.

Noah was perfect—quiet, thoughtful, the kind of man who memorized your coffee order before you’d even noticed his. His house was charming, except for the basement. Off-limits, he said. Unsafe. I believed him until the storm knocked out the power. The fuse box had to be down there. The key fit. The door opened. Cold air. A smell like wet iron. At the back, a steel door with a keypad. And his notebook. Subject 4. Subject 7. Subject 12. Sketches of eyes. Notes on screams. I didn’t wait to hear what was behind the steel door. Now, when Noah smiles at me over breakfast, I count the seconds until he leaves. Last night, I pressed my ear to the basement door. Two voices. One was his. The other wasn’t human. #NoFilter #ThingsIHideFromMyself