The Last Door Bell

Part Four: Never Answer

Chapter Thirteen: The Woman Who Wasn't Their Mother

"Give me the bell, Ivy."

Their mother's voice was gentle.

That was the worst part.

Even with those black eyes and the unnatural smile stretching across her face, she sounded exactly as Ivy remembered her. The same soft voice that had comforted her after nightmares. The same voice that had sung her to sleep when thunderstorms shook their childhood home.

Ivy's fingers tightened around the photograph.

"Mum?"

The woman tilted her head.

"Yes, darling."

Leo stepped forward.

"Why are you doing this?"

She looked at him with something resembling affection.

"My little boy."

Leo flinched.

"Don't call me that."

Her smile faded.

"You're angry with me?"

"You're not our mother."

For a moment, something flickered across the woman's face.

Pain.

Real, unmistakable pain.

Then it vanished.

"Your mother loved you," she said. "She loved you so much that she gave up everything for you."

Ivy shook her head.

"What does that mean?"

The woman extended her hand.

"Give me the bell, and I'll explain."

June stepped between them.

"Don't listen to her."

Their mother turned towards June.

"You have caused enough trouble."

The temperature in the room dropped.

Frost spread across the wooden table, creeping towards the brass bell.

June raised her lantern.

"You cannot have them."

The woman laughed.

"Still pretending to be a hero?"

June's face tightened.

"I made a mistake. I'm trying to fix it."

"You made a promise."

"I was a child!"

"And so was Daniel."

The words struck June like a physical blow.

She lowered the lantern.

Their mother continued.

"You wanted your brother back. You wanted him so badly that you handed him to me. And now you want to pretend you're innocent?"

June's eyes filled with tears.

"I never wanted him to suffer."

"Neither did I."

Ivy looked at the woman.

"What happened to you?"

The woman's expression softened.

"Your mother discovered the truth about this house. She tried to destroy the doorbell before it could take you."

"Then how did she die?"

The woman looked down.

"She opened the door one final time."

Leo shook his head.

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

The woman turned towards him.

"Ask your sister what she remembers about the night I died."

Ivy froze.

A memory surfaced.

Rain against the windows.

Blue lights flashing outside.

A paramedic kneeling beside her.

Someone telling her that her mother had been in an accident.

But beneath those memories lay something else.

A doorbell.

Three rings.

And her mother screaming.

Ivy staggered backwards.

"I remember..."

The woman smiled.

"Yes, darling. You remember."

June suddenly seized the brass bell.

The woman shrieked.

The sound was so violent that the light bulbs overhead exploded.

"RUN!"

June hurled the bell towards Ivy.

Ivy caught it against her chest.

Leo grabbed her hand, and they raced towards the staircase.

Behind them, their mother's voice changed.

It became deeper, louder, and filled with a rage that shook dust from the ceiling.

"YOU CANNOT LEAVE WITHOUT ANSWERING!"

The walls began to split.

Hands reached through the cracks.

Small fingers curled around Ivy's ankles as she climbed. She kicked desperately, clutching the bell with one arm while Leo pulled her upwards.

June followed close behind.

They reached the top just as the staircase collapsed into darkness.

The opening in the living room wall sealed itself.

The house became silent.

Ivy fell against the sofa, gasping.

Leo dropped beside her.

June stood in the centre of the room, staring at the brass bell.

"We have it," Ivy whispered.

June shook her head.

"No."

She looked towards the front door.

"We have what it wants us to have."

Three slow knocks sounded from the other side.

Then their mother's voice spoke.

"Children, open the door."

A pause.

"I've brought you a treat."

The brass bell began ringing in Ivy's hands.

And from somewhere inside its hollow metal body, a tiny voice whispered:

"Don't let her in."

Chapter Fourteen: The Rules Were Lies

Ivy dropped the bell.

It struck the floor with a metallic clang.

Leo stared at it.

"What was that?"

June crouched and examined the brass casing.

"Something is trapped inside."

"Something?"

She turned the bell over.

There was a small screw at its base, nearly hidden beneath years of tarnish.

June pulled a hairpin from her coat and began working at it.

Ivy stared at her.

"Why do you have a hairpin?"

"Because I have hair."

"This is not the time."

"Then stop asking questions that don't help."

Leo let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

For one strange second, they sounded like ordinary siblings arguing over something stupid.

Then the front door shook.

All three fell silent.

June loosened the screw.

The brass casing opened.

Inside was a tiny folded piece of paper.

Ivy picked it up and carefully unfolded it.

Four sentences had been written in faded ink.

THE FIRST BELL CALLS THE LOST.

THE SECOND BELL CALLS THE LIVING.

THE THIRD BELL CALLS THE DEAD.

THE FOURTH BELL CALLS THE KEEPER.

Beneath them was another sentence.

THE FIFTH BELL OPENS THE WAY.

Leo looked at June.

"You said there were only four bells."

"I was wrong."

"How?"

June's voice trembled.

"My grandmother never mentioned a fifth bell."

Ivy examined the paper.

"Maybe she didn't know."

"She knew everything."

"Clearly not everything."

June shot her an irritated look but said nothing.

The knocking at the front door grew louder.

Their mother spoke again.

"Ivy, sweetheart. I know you're frightened."

The voice sounded so tender that Ivy felt tears gathering in her eyes.

"You don't have to be afraid of me."

Leo grabbed her hand.

"Don't listen."

"I just want to see her."

"I know."

"I miss her, Leo."

His expression softened.

"I miss her too."

For a moment, they simply held each other's hands.

Then the doorbell rang.

The sound echoed through the house.

The brass bell on the floor vibrated violently.

June snatched it up.

"Something's wrong."

Ivy looked at the paper.

"What?"

"The bells aren't supposed to ring by themselves once they've been removed."

The front door opened an inch.

A thin line of darkness appeared between the door and the frame.

Something pushed against it from outside.

The gap widened.

A pale hand slipped through.

Then another.

Ivy stumbled backwards.

Their mother stepped inside.

She wore the same blue dress she had worn on the night she died. Her hair was wet, and water dripped from her fingertips.

She looked at the three of them.

Then she smiled.

"Did you really think taking the bell would stop me?"

June raised the lantern.

The woman glanced at it and laughed.

"That little light?"

She blew towards the flame.

It went out.

June stared at the extinguished lantern.

The woman's smile widened.

"Your grandmother taught you how to hide, June. She never taught you how to fight."

June backed away.

The woman looked at Ivy.

"Give me the bell."

"No."

The woman's expression changed.

"Excuse me?"

Ivy swallowed.

"I said no."

The house groaned around them.

Every window shattered at once.

A violent wind swept through the living room, scattering photographs and tearing curtains from their rails.

Their mother began to scream.

Not in anger.

In pain.

Her body bent backwards, and her mouth opened impossibly wide.

Something dark writhed beneath her skin.

Ivy watched in horror as a second face began pushing through the side of her mother's neck.

A child's face.

Its black eyes opened.

And it whispered:

"Five."

The woman collapsed.

Her body dissolved into a mass of black smoke that swept across the floor and vanished beneath the front door.

Silence returned.

Leo stared at the empty doorway.

"Did we just...?"

"No," June whispered.

She picked up the brass bell.

"We haven't stopped anything."

Ivy looked at the paper again.

The fifth bell.

"The fifth bell opens the way," she murmured.

June nodded.

"Which means someone is going to ring it."

A sound came from upstairs.

Footsteps.

Slow, heavy footsteps.

Then a door opened.

A little boy appeared at the top of the staircase.

He wore a striped sweater.

His face was pale.

June stopped breathing.

"Daniel?"

The boy smiled.

"Hello, sister."

Then he looked at Ivy.

"Your mother says thank you."

He lifted his hand.

In his palm lay a small brass button.

A button identical to the one fixed to the original doorbell.

And behind him, at the end of the upstairs hallway, a fifth door slowly swung open.

Chapter Fifteen: The Room at the End of the Hall

Nobody moved.

Daniel stood at the top of the staircase, smiling as though he had merely returned from school.

June took a trembling step forward.

"Daniel?"

He nodded.

"I've missed you."

Tears streamed down her face.

"You're really here."

"Of course I am."

He held out his arms.

June started up the stairs.

Leo caught her wrist.

"Wait."

She turned on him.

"Let go!"

"How do we know it's him?"

June's expression hardened.

"Because he's my brother!"

"And Ivy's mother looked exactly like their mother. Remember how that turned out?"

June went silent.

Daniel's smile faded.

"You're hurting her."

Leo didn't release June.

"What's your favourite memory of your sister?"

Daniel blinked.

"What?"

"Tell us something only the real Daniel would know."

The boy looked at June.

She stared at him, desperate for an answer.

Daniel tilted his head.

"You used to steal my biscuits."

June's lips parted.

"You hid them under your bed," he continued. "You thought I didn't know."

A broken laugh escaped her.

"Daniel..."

He smiled.

"And you cried when I ate them all."

June began sobbing.

Leo's grip loosened.

Ivy stepped towards the staircase.

"Ask him something else."

June looked at her.

"Why?"

"Because that thing knows our memories. It knows what we miss. It can use all of it against us."

Daniel's smile disappeared.

Ivy climbed one step.

"What was the last thing you said to June before you disappeared?"

The boy stared at her.

For several seconds, he didn't answer.

Then he looked at June.

"I told you I loved you."

June's face crumpled.

She covered her mouth.

Ivy felt a chill settle over her skin.

It wasn't an answer.

It was the kind of answer anyone would give if they wanted to make someone cry.

"Try again," Ivy said.

Daniel's face darkened.

"You don't know anything about us."

"Then prove me wrong."

The boy's eyes turned black.

His smile returned, but this time it stretched too far.

"You're making a mistake."

The fifth door behind him creaked open.

A warm yellow light spilled into the hallway.

Daniel looked over his shoulder.

Then he smiled at June.

"Come and see what I've brought you."

He stepped through the doorway.

June tore free from Leo and ran upstairs.

"JUNE!" Ivy screamed.

Leo raced after her.

Ivy followed, clutching the brass bell.

The upstairs hallway seemed longer than before. The walls stretched away into darkness, and the floorboards groaned beneath their feet.

At the far end stood the fifth door.

June was already inside.

Ivy reached the doorway and stopped.

The room beyond was a perfect replica of their childhood living room.

The old brown sofa stood beside the fireplace. Their mother's favourite blue curtains hung at the windows. A small Christmas tree stood in one corner, decorated with ornaments Ivy hadn't seen in years.

Their mother sat on the sofa.

She looked young and healthy.

Daniel sat beside her.

June knelt on the carpet, holding his hands.

Leo stood frozen in the doorway.

Ivy's heart twisted.

It was the family they had lost.

The life they had wanted back.

Their mother smiled at Ivy.

"Come here, darling."

Ivy shook her head.

The woman patted the sofa.

"There's room for everyone."

June looked up at Ivy, tears shining on her cheeks.

"She's real."

"No."

"Look at her!"

"I am looking!"

June turned towards her brother.

"He remembers everything."

Daniel smiled.

"She's right."

He stood and approached Ivy.

"Do you remember the summer we went to the beach?"

Ivy's breath caught.

Of course she remembered.

Their mother had taken them to the beach when Ivy was nine and Leo was seven. Leo had been frightened of the waves, and Ivy had held his hand until he grew brave enough to step into the water.

It had been one of the happiest days of her life.

Daniel continued.

"You built a sandcastle. Leo knocked it down, and you cried."

Ivy's eyes filled with tears.

"Stop."

"Then Mum bought you ice cream. Chocolate for you, strawberry for Leo."

"Stop!"

Daniel stepped closer.

"She remembers, Ivy. She remembers everything."

Their mother rose from the sofa.

"I can give you all of it back."

Ivy's fingers tightened around the brass bell.

"What do you want?"

The woman smiled.

"Nothing you haven't already promised."

"I never promised you anything."

"Not you, darling."

She looked at Leo.

"Your brother did."

Leo went completely still.

Ivy turned towards him.

"What is she talking about?"

He stared at the floor.

"Leo?"

His voice cracked.

"I made a deal."

The room fell silent.

June slowly released Daniel's hands.

"What deal?"

Leo swallowed.

"When I opened the door three years ago, it told me I could bring Mum back."

Ivy stared at him.

"You said you closed the door."

"I did."

"Then what did you promise?"

Leo's eyes filled with tears.

"I promised that when it called me again, I'd come back."

Their mother smiled.

"And now, my darling, it's time to keep your promise."

The door slammed shut behind them.

The fifth bell rang.

And the room began to burn.

Chapter Sixteen: The Price of a Promise

Flames erupted along the curtains.

Ivy screamed as fire raced across the ceiling. The Christmas tree ignited, sending sparks flying across the carpet.

Leo grabbed June's arm.

"Get out!"

The door wouldn't open.

He pulled at the handle, but it remained locked.

Their mother stood beside the sofa, completely untouched by the flames.

Daniel watched from the centre of the room.

Neither appeared frightened.

Ivy clutched the brass bell against her chest.

"What do we do?"

June stared at the burning walls.

"The room is feeding on our memories!"

"What does that mean?"

"It means the more we want to stay, the harder it becomes to leave!"

Ivy looked at their mother.

She was crying now.

Real tears streamed down her face.

"Please, Ivy. Don't leave me again."

The flames dimmed.

For a moment, the room seemed to settle.

Ivy could hear the soft crackle of the fireplace, the ticking of the old clock, and her mother's familiar breathing.

Everything felt right.

She wanted to stay.

She wanted to sit beside her mother and tell her everything that had happened since she died. She wanted to ask whether she had been proud of her, whether she had known how much Ivy missed her, whether she had suffered when she died.

She wanted to believe that this was a second chance.

Her mother extended her hand.

"I've waited so long."

Ivy took a step forward.

Leo grabbed her.

"Don't!"

She struggled against him.

"She's our mother!"

"No, Ivy!"

"How do you know?"

"Because Mum would never ask us to die for her!"

The words struck her like ice water.

Ivy stopped.

Their mother stared at Leo.

The sadness vanished from her face.

"You promised me."

Leo began to shake.

"I was a child."

"You promised."

"I was scared!"

"You promised!"

The walls shook.

The flames surged higher.

Leo backed away.

"I wanted you back. I wanted you back so badly that I believed you."

Their mother advanced towards him.

"You owe me."

Leo's eyes filled with tears.

"No."

Her face twisted.

"You belong to me!"

"No!"

Leo raised his voice.

"I love you, Mum. But you're not her!"

The room shuddered violently.

A crack split the ceiling.

Daniel began screaming.

June grabbed Ivy's hand.

"Now! We have to go!"

Ivy lifted the brass bell.

She remembered the words written on the paper.

The first bell calls the lost.

The second bell calls the living.

The third bell calls the dead.

The fourth bell calls the keeper.

The fifth bell opens the way.

Five bells.

Five rules.

But nowhere had it said what happened if the bell was broken.

Ivy looked at the brass casing.

At the tiny symbols carved into its surface.

At the name of their mother.

Then she understood.

The bell wasn't merely a way to summon the door.

It was what connected the house to every person it had taken.

If the connection could be broken, perhaps the door could be closed.

She raised the bell above her head.

Their mother screamed.

"NO!"

Ivy brought it down against the stone floor.

The brass cracked.

A sound erupted from the walls, louder than any doorbell she had ever heard.

Every door in the house slammed open.

Children screamed.

Hundreds of voices poured through the corridors, crying out names that had been forgotten for decades.

Daniel collapsed to his knees.

June rushed towards him.

Leo grabbed Ivy's arm.

"Again!"

She raised the bell and struck it a second time.

The casing split.

Black smoke burst from the crack.

Their mother staggered backwards.

For the first time, she looked frightened.

"You don't understand what you're doing!"

Ivy struck the bell a third time.

It shattered.

Silence fell.

The flames disappeared.

The room was empty.

The sofa, the Christmas tree, and the windows vanished.

Only four walls remained, covered in blackened scratches.

June knelt on the floor.

Daniel was gone.

She sobbed into her hands.

Leo held Ivy tightly.

"It's over."

Ivy wanted to believe him.

Then she noticed something lying in the ashes.

A small brass button.

The fifth button.

She picked it up.

It was warm.

A faint ringing sounded inside it.

Ding-dong.

Ivy's blood ran cold.

A message appeared on her phone.

UNKNOWN: You broke the bell.

Another message followed.

UNKNOWN: But you forgot the door.

At the far end of the room, a narrow black doorway appeared.

And from the darkness beyond it came a voice Ivy had never heard before.

"Thank you for opening the way."

End of Part Four: Never Answer.