5

A Door in the Dark

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Nadine sat outside the cottage, clutching her knees, tears threatening again. A small voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

Startled, she looked up to see a young woman standing nearby, her expression gentle but cautious. She was dressed simply, with kind eyes that held a hint of understanding.

Nadine hesitated but nodded. “I’m… trying.”

The woman smiled softly. “My name is Amina. I worked at the motel nearby. "My boss is very nice, he can give you a good place to stay for a month for free but after a month you will start paying."

For the first time in weeks, Nadine felt a flicker of hope. Could this be the break she needed? Could she trust someone again?

She moved to the motel with her mother though the place is not good but it is still better than the cottage.

The second night at the motel felt heavier than the first.

The stifling air pressed against Nadine’s lungs like a weight she couldn’t push away.

Her frail woman shivering beside her, curled into a tight ball beneath their only blanket, her forehead gleaming with sweat.

Her mother was burning up.

Nadine sat at the edge of the bed, her hands trembling in her lap. She had turned her face to the wall to cry silently so she wouldn’t wake her mother, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Her ribs ached from hunger. Her head throbbed. Her stomach made a low, angry growl, but she ignored it. She had gone hungrier before.

But this… this was worse.

The fear of watching her mother die slowly in front of her felt like a dagger twisting in her gut. She reached out and placed her hand gently on her mother’s forehead. Her skin was burning up, her breathing shallow and fast.

“Mama…” she whispered shakily. “Please… please stay with me.”

Her mother stirred, letting out a soft moan, but didn’t open her eyes. Her once-strong mother, the woman who had protected her from every pain, who had held her when she cried, now looked like a ghost of herself.

“I will find a way,” Nadine whispered, pressing a shaky kiss to her mother’s hand. “Even if it kills me, I will save you.”

She stood up, swaying slightly as a wave of dizziness hit her. The room tilted, and she braced herself on the wall, breathing hard. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday, just water and the last dry biscuit she gave to her mother. But she couldn’t sit and wait for death to find them.

She wrapped herself in her old cardigan, slipped on her shoes, and stepped outside.

The motel hallway smelled of mold and old cigarettes. As she walked past one of the storage rooms near the stairwell, something caught her eye.

A piece of paper fluttered lightly in the breeze from a broken window.

She paused.

It was taped to a rusted metal panel, nearly torn in half.

Her curiosity, numb as it was from exhaustion, tugged her back a step. She leaned closer, squinting to read the faded writing.

Cash Job.

No Experience Needed.

Discreet. Text Now.

There was a number scrawled underneath.

For a long moment, Nadine stood frozen. She didn’t know what kind of job it was, and the word “discreet” sent a shiver down her spine. But then she thought of her mother’s feverish body. Her pale face. The way her voice had stopped calling her name.

Desperation won.

She rushed back into the room and grabbed her old, battered phone from her bag. The screen was cracked and it had barely 8% battery, but it still worked. Her fingers trembled as she typed out a message.

“Hi… I saw the poster. I’m interested. Please. I need the job.”

She pressed send and held the phone like it was her last lifeline. Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum, loud and erratic.

Please reply.

Please.

Anything.

Seconds passed.

Minutes.

She stared at the screen, barely breathing.

Then, ping.

Her phone buzzed with a new message.

You have been accepted. Come to the address below by 9:00 PM. Wear black. Don’t be late.

Nadine gasped, rereading the message again and again. Her eyes widened. Accepted? Without an interview? Without knowing who she was?

Fear gripped her. It was too easy. Too strange.

But then her mother let out a weak cough behind her, and the fear melted into urgency. She didn’t care anymore. Let the devil be behind that door, if it meant she could get help for her mother, she would walk into hell with a smile.

She looked at the time. 8:04 PM.

She had less than an hour.

Frantically, she looked through her bag. She didn’t own anything black except for an old faded t-shirt and jeans that were two sizes too small. She squeezed into them, pulling her cardigan over it to hide the wear and tear. She tied her hair back, splashed water on her face to dull the shadows under her eyes, and applied a hint of lip balm if only to make herself look alive.

Before leaving, she knelt beside her mother and whispered, “I’ll be back soon… I promise.”

She kissed her forehead again, the fever making her skin hot to the touch.

Then she slipped out of the room and into the night.

The streets were dark and mostly empty. She walked fast, even though her feet were sore and every step sent shooting pain up her legs. The wind bit into her skin, and the lights from broken streetlamps cast eerie shadows across the cracked pavement. She was alone. So alone.

But she didn’t stop.

By the time she reached the address, she was panting. The building was tall and narrow, like something from another world. Expensive. Intimidating. Gilded iron gates guarded the entrance, with dark vines creeping up the sides of the stone wall.

8:59 PM.

She reached up with trembling hands and knocked.

The sound echoed sharply.

The door creaked open.

A tall woman stood there, her skin pale and smooth, lips painted a rich red that stood out sharply against her cold expression. Her eyes were like ice, piercing, unreadable. She wore a fitted black dress and high heels that clicked ominously on the marble floor.

“You are on time,” she said in a flat, almost robotic voice. “Come in.”

Nadine hesitated for only a second before stepping inside.

The scent of perfume mixed with something bitter like burnt sugar and metal. The interior was elegant but sterile. No photos. No signs of life. Just pristine walls, glowing chandeliers, and silence.

“Tea?” the woman asked, holding out a porcelain cup.

“Protocol,” she added with a slight smile.

Nadine took it with shaky hands. The warmth of the cup comforted her, and her lips were dry, so she drank it all.

“Thank you,” she said weakly.

The woman watched her closely.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Nadine’s vision started to blur. Her legs wobbled. She blinked and tried to speak, but her tongue felt heavy, her limbs suddenly too weak to mo

ve.

The woman took the cup from her hand as it fell, her red lips twitching into something resembling satisfaction.

And then.. darkness.