The Last Door Bell

Part Three: The Names Behind the Door

Chapter Nine: The Boy Behind the Door

June screamed as the boy stepped through the doorway.

He was small, perhaps twelve years old, with dark hair plastered against his forehead and a striped sweater that looked decades out of fashion. His feet were bare, and his trousers were soaked to the knees.

He looked like an ordinary child who had wandered outside on a cold Halloween night.

Except for his eyes.

They were completely black.

"June," he said.

She stumbled backwards.

"No."

The boy smiled.

"You found me."

"No! You're not Daniel!"

His smile widened.

"You remember my name."

Leo grabbed June's arm, but she tore herself free.

"Stay away from me!"

The boy glanced at Ivy.

"Is she your friend?"

"Don't speak to her," June whispered.

"She's pretty." He tilted his head. "Will she come with us?"

Ivy couldn't move.

The door stood open behind him, revealing a long corridor that stretched into darkness. Small lights flickered along its walls, illuminating dozens of doors on either side.

Behind each door, something was knocking.

Some knocks were gentle.

Others sounded desperate.

One was accompanied by a woman's sobbing.

Ivy recognised that voice.

Their mother.

She took an involuntary step forward.

Leo caught her hand.

"Don't."

"But that's Mum."

"No, Ivy. It isn't."

The boy in the striped sweater laughed.

"Your brother said that about me, too."

He looked at Leo.

"Do you remember what you promised?"

Leo's face went white.

"Shut up."

"You promised you'd come back."

"I said shut up!"

The boy's smile disappeared.

For a moment, his face looked genuinely hurt.

Then his features began to change.

His cheeks sank inward. His skin darkened, cracking like dried mud. His mouth stretched until it split across his face, revealing rows of tiny, needle-like teeth.

When he spoke again, his voice was no longer that of a child.

"You left me in there."

June collapsed onto her knees.

The creature turned towards her.

"You left me alone with them."

Tears streamed down June's face.

"I tried to find you."

"You stopped looking."

"I was twelve!"

"You forgot me."

"I never forgot you!"

The creature suddenly became silent.

Then it smiled again.

"Prove it."

June looked up.

"What?"

"Come home."

It extended one pale hand.

The corridor behind it grew brighter.

And from somewhere deep within the darkness, a familiar voice called June's name.

Her mother's voice.

June began crawling towards the door.

Leo lunged to stop her, but the creature raised its free hand.

Every streetlight exploded simultaneously.

Glass rained onto the pavement.

Ivy screamed as darkness swallowed the street.

Then something seized her ankle.

She fell hard against the ground.

A cold hand dragged her backwards.

She clawed at the pavement, scraping her fingernails against the concrete.

"LEO!"

Someone grabbed her wrists.

For one terrifying moment, she couldn't tell whether the hands were pulling her towards safety or towards the door.

Then Leo's face appeared above her.

He pulled with all his strength.

June seized Ivy's other arm.

Together, they dragged her free.

The door slammed shut.

The streetlights flickered back on.

The boy was gone.

So was the doorway.

For several seconds, the three of them lay on the pavement, gasping for breath.

Then Ivy sat up.

"That was Daniel?"

June nodded weakly.

"Or whatever is wearing him."

Ivy stared at the empty street.

"Why did it call you back?"

June wiped her face.

"Because I was the first person who ever opened that door."

Leo turned towards her.

"What?"

June looked at him.

"My brother didn't disappear on Halloween by accident. I rang the bell first."

She swallowed.

"And I let him in."

Chapter Ten: The House of Missing Children

They found shelter in an abandoned church at the end of the street.

The building had been closed for years, its wooden doors swollen from rain and its windows covered in dust. June knew where a spare key was hidden beneath a loose brick near the entrance.

Ivy didn't ask how.

She was beginning to suspect that June had spent far too much time preparing for a night like this.

Inside, the air smelled of damp stone and old candles.

Leo pushed a heavy wooden bench against the entrance.

"That should hold for a while."

"For a while?" Ivy repeated. "You make that sound reassuring."

"It wasn't meant to be."

She glared at him.

He looked away.

June walked towards the altar and placed her lantern on the floor.

"The house can't cross sacred ground."

Ivy stared at her.

"Is that an actual rule, or another thing you made up because it sounds comforting?"

"It's a rule."

"How do you know?"

June looked at the stained-glass window above the altar.

"Because my grandmother spent forty years studying the disappearances. She discovered that the door could only appear in places where someone had invited it in, or where someone had died trying to escape it."

Leo sat on a pew.

"Then why did it appear in the street?"

"Because the fourth bell was rung."

June knelt beside an old wooden chest beneath the altar. She pulled it forward and lifted the lid.

Inside were notebooks, newspaper clippings, faded photographs, and several yellowed sheets of paper covered in handwriting.

Ivy crouched beside her.

"What is all this?"

"Everything my grandmother learned."

June removed a notebook and opened it carefully.

The first page contained a list of names and dates.

OCTOBER 31, 1949.

THOMAS VALE, AGE 9. MISSING.

OCTOBER 31, 1956.

ELIZABETH MORROW, AGE 7. MISSING.

OCTOBER 31, 1968.

PETER HAWTHORNE, AGE 11. MISSING.

The list continued for several pages.

Ivy's stomach tightened.

Every disappearance had occurred on Halloween.

Every child had vanished at 11:59 p.m.

And beside each name was the same note.

LAST SEEN NEAR A DOORBELL.

"How many children?" Ivy whispered.

June turned to the final page.

"Twenty-three."

Leo stared at the notebook.

"All these years?"

"Yes."

"But why children?"

June shook her head.

"We don't know."

Ivy picked up one of the newspaper clippings.

The headline read:

LOCAL GIRL DISAPPEARS DURING HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION. FAMILY REPORTS STRANGE DOORBELL CALLS.

The photograph beneath it showed a little girl standing beside a plastic pumpkin.

Ivy recognised the costume.

A white sheet.

Two black eyeholes.

Her hands began to shake.

"June."

June looked up.

Ivy pointed at the photograph.

"That's the child."

June examined it.

Then she went completely still.

"No."

"What?"

June took the clipping from Ivy.

"This photograph was taken in 1978."

"So?"

June looked at her.

"The child in this photograph is my grandmother."

Ivy stared at her.

"Your grandmother disappeared?"

"No. She survived."

June turned the clipping over.

Someone had written a sentence on the back in faded ink.

SHE CAME BACK, BUT SHE WASN'T ALONE.

A floorboard creaked behind them.

All three turned.

At the far end of the church, a little girl stood between the pews.

She wore a yellow dress and held a candle.

Her face was hidden behind a veil of long, dark hair.

Ivy rose slowly.

"Who are you?"

The girl lifted her head.

"I want to go home."

June stepped backwards.

"No."

The girl began to cry.

"I want my mummy."

Leo covered his mouth.

Ivy looked at June.

"What do we do?"

June whispered the words as though she were afraid the girl might hear.

"Whatever you do, don't ask her where she lives."

The girl raised her face.

Her eyes were black.

And behind her, every door in the church began to ring.

Chapter Eleven: The Truth About June

The bells rang in a deafening chorus.

Ivy clamped her hands over her ears as the church doors rattled violently in their frames.

The little girl stood motionless between the pews.

"Please," she sobbed. "I want my mummy."

June backed towards the altar.

"Don't answer her."

"I wasn't planning to!"

The girl took one step forward.

"Ivy?"

Ivy froze.

The voice was no longer that of a little girl.

It was June's.

"Please help me."

Ivy turned towards the real June.

June's face had drained of colour.

The girl in the yellow dress smiled.

"Ivy, she's lying to you."

June shook her head.

"Don't listen."

The girl tilted her head.

"Ask her what happened to Daniel."

Leo stood abruptly.

"Enough!"

The bells stopped.

The silence that followed was so sudden that Ivy could hear the tiny flame of June's lantern crackling.

The girl in the yellow dress vanished.

Ivy turned towards June.

"What was that?"

June didn't answer.

"June."

Her friend looked at the floor.

Ivy's voice hardened.

"You said you rang the bell first. You said you let Daniel in. What aren't you telling us?"

June closed her eyes.

"I didn't just open the door."

She took a shaky breath.

"I made a deal."

Leo stared at her.

"What kind of deal?"

"I was twelve. Daniel had been sick for weeks. The doctors said there was nothing more they could do."

June's voice broke.

"He was dying, and I couldn't accept it. My grandmother had warned us about the door, but I thought she was telling stories to frighten us."

She looked at Ivy.

"That night, I heard Daniel crying in his bedroom. I went downstairs and rang the bell."

Ivy felt a knot form in her stomach.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted someone to help him."

June wiped her eyes.

"The door opened. A child in a white sheet stood on the other side. It said it could save Daniel."

Leo whispered, "At a price."

June nodded.

"It wanted someone to take his place. I thought it meant someone would have to disappear. I didn't understand that it meant the person would be trapped on the other side forever."

"And you agreed?"

"I was twelve!"

Her voice echoed through the church.

"I was scared. I wanted my brother to live."

June looked at Leo.

"The next morning, Daniel was healthy. His fever was gone. He was laughing and eating breakfast like nothing had ever happened."

She swallowed.

"Then, on Halloween, the doorbell rang again."

Ivy felt cold all over.

"And Daniel disappeared."

June nodded.

"I heard him screaming from inside the door. I tried to open it, but it wouldn't let me."

She looked down at the black mark around her wrist.

"It marked me that night. It said I belonged to it now."

Leo stared at the mark.

"Then why are you still here?"

June's expression changed.

"Because I escaped."

Ivy stepped closer.

"How?"

June hesitated.

"My grandmother helped me. She found a way to break the deal, but it required someone else to take my place temporarily."

Leo went rigid.

Ivy looked between them.

"Who?"

June's eyes filled with tears.

"Daniel."

Silence.

Leo shook his head.

"No."

"I didn't know what it would do to him!"

"You left him there!"

"I was twelve!"

"You left your brother in that place!"

June flinched as if he had struck her.

Ivy stepped between them.

"Stop it! We can fight about this later. We need to get out of here."

June nodded slowly.

"There is a way to end the haunting."

Both Ivy and Leo turned towards her.

"The door can be closed permanently," she continued. "But we have to find the original doorbell."

"Where?"

June looked towards the church entrance.

"Inside the house."

A loud bang shook the building.

The heavy wooden doors shuddered.

Then came a familiar sound.

Ding-dong.

Ivy looked at the church doors.

A voice spoke from the other side.

Her own voice.

"Leo, open the door."

Leo backed away.

The voice continued.

"Please. It's me."

Then another voice joined it.

June's voice.

Then their mother's.

Then Daniel's.

All of them spoke together.

"LET US IN."

The church doors began to crack.

June grabbed the notebook.

"We have to go. Now."

Chapter Twelve: The Original Doorbell

They escaped through a narrow side entrance just as the church doors splintered.

The streets were empty.

Not a single house displayed Halloween decorations anymore. The orange lights had vanished, the pumpkins had disappeared, and every window was dark.

Ivy checked her phone.

The time still read 11:59 p.m.

"How long has it been like this?"

June shook her head.

"Time doesn't work normally once the fourth bell rings."

"Then how do we know when midnight is coming?"

"We don't."

Leo stopped walking.

"What happens at midnight?"

June looked at him.

"The door chooses someone."

"To do what?"

"To become the next keeper."

Ivy's throat tightened.

"And if nobody agrees?"

June's answer was quiet.

"Then it takes someone."

They reached Ivy's house.

The front door stood open.

The porch light flickered.

The plastic pumpkin was gone.

Ivy stared into the dark hallway.

"We're going inside?"

"We need the original doorbell," June replied. "It's hidden beneath the house."

"Why would anyone hide a doorbell beneath a house?"

"Because the house was built around it."

Leo looked at the front door.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Neither does a hallway that appears on a wall."

He had no response to that.

They entered together.

The house smelled of smoke.

Ivy's living room was in ruins. The sofa had been overturned, the curtains hung in torn strips, and the family photographs lay shattered across the floor.

The little black door was gone.

In its place was a large rectangular hole in the wall.

A staircase descended into darkness.

Ivy stared at it.

"That definitely wasn't there before."

June lit her lantern.

"Stay close to me."

They descended.

The staircase seemed to go on forever. The walls were covered in old wallpaper, peeling in long strips. Beneath it, Ivy could see scratches carved into the plaster.

Names.

Hundreds of names.

Some were written neatly.

Others had been gouged into the wall with such force that the plaster had crumbled.

At the bottom, they found a narrow room.

A single wooden table stood in the centre.

On it rested a brass doorbell.

It was old and tarnished, its surface covered in tiny symbols.

Ivy approached it slowly.

"Is that it?"

June nodded.

"The original bell."

Leo leaned closer.

"What are the symbols?"

"Names."

Ivy examined the brass.

She recognised several names from the notebook.

Then she saw one that made her blood run cold.

EDWARD.

It was their mother's name.

Ivy stumbled backwards.

"No."

June grabbed her arm.

"What is it?"

"That's Mum's name."

June examined the bell.

Her expression changed.

"That can't be right."

A faint clicking sound came from beneath the table.

Leo crouched.

"There is something under here."

He reached into the darkness and pulled out a small wooden box.

It was locked.

Ivy noticed a piece of paper tucked beneath the lid.

She unfolded it.

The handwriting was familiar.

Their mother's handwriting.

My darling children,

If you ever find this, then the door has finally come for you.

There is something I never told you about the night I died.

I did not die in an accident.

Ivy stopped reading.

Her hands trembled so badly that the paper nearly slipped from her fingers.

Leo looked at her.

"What does it say?"

She continued.

I died because I opened the door.

A terrible silence filled the room.

Then the brass doorbell rang by itself.

Ding-dong.

The wooden box sprang open.

Inside lay a photograph of their mother standing on the porch of the house.

She was smiling.

Behind her stood three children.

Ivy.

Leo.

And June.

But the photograph had been taken twenty years before any of them were born.

Ivy stared at it in disbelief.

Then she noticed the date printed along the bottom.

OCTOBER 31, 1949.

A whisper drifted from the darkness behind them.

"Now you understand."

They turned.

Their mother stood at the foot of the staircase.

Her face was pale, her clothes soaked with rain.

She smiled sadly at Ivy.

"I tried to keep you safe."

Ivy began to cry.

"Mum?"

Her mother extended her hand.

"Come here, darling."

June grabbed Ivy's wrist.

"Don't!"

Their mother looked at June.

For the first time, her smile disappeared.

"You."

June went rigid.

Their mother took one step forward.

"You were supposed to stay away."

The brass doorbell began to vibrate on the table.

Leo backed towards the staircase.

"Mum, what's happening?"

Their mother turned to him.

Her eyes were completely black.

"Your sister has something that belongs to me."

Ivy looked down at the photograph.

Then at the paper.

Then at the brass bell.

And finally, at the woman who had raised her.

Their mother smiled again.

"Give me the bell, Ivy."

Behind her, dozens of small hands began reaching through the walls.

"Or your brother will be the next one to disappear."

End of Part Three: The Names Behind the Door.