She sat huddled in the corner, wishing for a more effective place to hide. True, she was in an abandoned house, but a little bit of cover does go a long way and this place had none. No doors, no windows, not even any dead leaves lying about. Who knew that an old house could be this clean? It seemed a bit odd, now that she thought about it, and she slowly sat up to look around.
She was hiding, of course. The night had started so well, it was her birthday, the big 5-0, and she had been on her way to PAR-TY!!! Good friends, good music, and maybe... Oh well, you know what they say about plans.
The bar had been hopping as she entered, wearing her orange mini dress, and there was an actual pause when folks saw her. She. Was. Hot, and working that dress for all it was worth. You don't get many nights where every female in the room hates you on sight. It is such fun if you're the one they hate.
Unfortunately, one of the hating females decided to make her look bad. The hater did some stupid shit and started a fight over the guy she was picking up. FYI- never start a fight with someone you don't know. So 'hating female' got hurt, and her peeps wanted revenge. The problem was, there were about 5 of them, and only one of her, so she had to bail out fast, and this building was the closest hidey hole around.
So now she was hiding in an empty house. A really weird empty house, now that she had a chance to pause. Who leaves a house like this, and keeps it so clean. There weren't any windows but the woodwork was gleaming in the moonlight and there wasn't a cobweb to be seen. Putting her hand on the wall, she started to stand up.
Shit, there's a light! No where to duck. But wait, the light was coming up from the floor. What the heck? She crept over to investigate and found something really odd. It was a tiny little door in the floor, sort of baroque with a brass knocker on it. Unable to resist, she used a fingernail to lift up the knocker and let it drop. Soon there were footsteps and the door opened. The most handsome man looked out...
"Hello," said the man. "Can I help you?"
She rocked back on her broken stilettos. "Um, well, gosh, are you real? I mean, well, your front door is set into the floor. Oh, I'm not saying this well at all..."
The man smiled. "Dear lady, of course I am real. You seem to be in some distress and your clothing... Would you like to come in?"
She paused. Would she like to go in? The light and gaiety coming from the little door were seductive. It seemed magical, as though a wonderful party were underway. And it was her birthday. Would she like to go in?
"Yes, I think I would like to come in, but how would I enter? Your door is so small..."
"Oh," he said, "that's the easy part. Just take my hand."
She reached out to take his hand and found herself magically transported. The inside of the door was as beautiful as she had imagined. Her dress was new and fresh, and all of the party goers welcomed her in. It was a wonderful evening full of laughter and dancing. She found out the catch when she thanked her host and tried to leave...
The old abandoned house has been there as long as anyone remembered. The sign above the door says it was a rectory. The last holy man to live there turned out to be a very bad man, legend has it that he is still in the house buried under the floor boards. To free himself, he must lure 50 souls into his space under the floor as ransom. She was number 49...
This was originally published at Open Salon in November 2011 and has been edited and extended.