0 reactions
Something's wrong with my door
My name is Téo. I live in a highly sought-after urban area in Florianópolis, and because of that, the security there is exceptionally good. I had never felt so safe anywhere before. Almost dystopian, I’d say.
My routine is simple. I wake up at 6:20 AM from Monday to Saturday, get ready for work, eat something light, and leave home at 8. I drive to work, which is about thirty minutes away from my house.
I work at a car company as an inside salesperson and junior consultant. Because of that, I work a lot — so much that I usually get home close to 10 PM every weekday.
When I get home, I unlock the door by entering a password into the keypad, since the neighborhood required all residents to install coded locks due to strict security measures. I take a shower, eat something, and get ready for bed.
Six times a week.
One particular Tuesday, while coming home from work, I noticed something on my front door. It was a black smear that seemed to have appeared out of absolutely nowhere. I didn’t remember seeing it before, especially because I had replaced the door for aesthetic reasons a little over a month earlier.
I stared at it for a while before entering the code to unlock the door.
The next morning, the smear was still there. The recent formation of that strange mix of black and brown was, in a way, beautiful, so I simply ignored it.
And the days went by. My routine remained the same as always.
Still, I couldn’t stop looking at the smear every time I left or returned home.
My attention became constant when I started realizing that, somehow, the smear was growing. The patterns changed subtly. I think it had taken on a little more shape over the last seven days, but since I always came home exhausted from work, sometimes I barely thought about anything or paid attention to my surroundings. I would just arrive, type the code into the monitor, and walk inside.
In any other situation, that would’ve made me an easy target for robbery, considering how careless I become when I’m tired.
One day, the company I worked for called me and offered me some extra work with very good additional pay: spending two days out of town assisting with the sale of cars to wealthy clients.
I accepted immediately.
I woke up at 5 AM that day, got ready, and left home after giving the smear one last routine glance. It looked exactly the same as before.
The short business trip passed quickly. I arrived home earlier than usual — around 6:40 PM on a Saturday — and my instinct to type in the code and settle into the comfort of my house suddenly felt distant when I realized my strongest urge was to look at the smear.
I think I had developed a routine around the thing that had appeared so suddenly.
My eyes found the door, and my mind found confusion.
The smear was no longer a shapeless amalgamation of cold colors.
It now formed a skeletal figure, still somewhat difficult to fully make out. From the torso up to the head, leaning slightly forward.
It had no hair, and the shape of the eyes suggested they were wide open, like an unfinished sketch of a painting someone had abandoned halfway through.
I entered the code and went inside to rest. I won’t lie — my curiosity had gotten to me.
I spent almost the entire night returning to the door, trying to figure out whether what I was seeing was real or just pareidolia caused by exhaustion.
But it was still there.
Unchanged.
And since it was Saturday, I spent the rest of the day and all of Sunday trapped in that small paranoia.
But Monday came. I had work to do, so I followed my routine as usual, trying my best to suppress whatever bad feeling that plain, lifeless door gave me.
But as I was leaving the house, I nearly jumped.
The door now showed two eyes — faint, almost faded — complete with irises, sclera, every detail.
And they were staring directly at me.
I grabbed my things and went to the car. It took me about two minutes to drive away. Two entire minutes resisting the urge to look back at the door again.
Then I left.
Problems at work. Apparently, my team and I hadn’t satisfied all the demands of the wealthy clients during the last trip to the neighboring city, and we would need to return to sort everything out.
I was informed about the trip near the end of the workday, and according to what they told me, we would be staying out even longer this time because of the increased workload.
I loved that job as much as I could, but those trips drained me, and I always felt strangely uneasy accepting them, even with the company’s incredible bonus pay.
I got home close to 10 PM, as always.
I froze at the door.
The eyes were still there, staring at something I was too exhausted to understand.
I entered the code and stepped inside.
I’ve been away on business for ten days now, staying at a hotel, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to return home after the cameras and motion sensors identified a dark, bald, humanoid thing with enormous eyes entering my password and walking into my house.
So far, it hasn’t come back out.
#entertainment
source
My name is Téo. I live in a highly sought-after urban area in Florianópolis, and because of that, the security there is exceptionally good. I had never felt so safe anywhere before. Almost dystopian, I’d say.
My routine is simple. I wake up at 6:20 AM from Monday to Saturday, get ready for work, eat something light, and leave home at 8. I drive to work, which is about thirty minutes away from my house.
I work at a car company as an inside salesperson and junior consultant. Because of that, I work a lot — so much that I usually get home close to 10 PM every weekday.
When I get home, I unlock the door by entering a password into the keypad, since the neighborhood required all residents to install coded locks due to strict security measures. I take a shower, eat something, and get ready for bed.
Six times a week.
One particular Tuesday, while coming home from work, I noticed something on my front door. It was a black smear that seemed to have appeared out of absolutely nowhere. I didn’t remember seeing it before, especially because I had replaced the door for aesthetic reasons a little over a month earlier.
I stared at it for a while before entering the code to unlock the door.
The next morning, the smear was still there. The recent formation of that strange mix of black and brown was, in a way, beautiful, so I simply ignored it.
And the days went by. My routine remained the same as always.
Still, I couldn’t stop looking at the smear every time I left or returned home.
My attention became constant when I started realizing that, somehow, the smear was growing. The patterns changed subtly. I think it had taken on a little more shape over the last seven days, but since I always came home exhausted from work, sometimes I barely thought about anything or paid attention to my surroundings. I would just arrive, type the code into the monitor, and walk inside.
In any other situation, that would’ve made me an easy target for robbery, considering how careless I become when I’m tired.
One day, the company I worked for called me and offered me some extra work with very good additional pay: spending two days out of town assisting with the sale of cars to wealthy clients.
I accepted immediately.
I woke up at 5 AM that day, got ready, and left home after giving the smear one last routine glance. It looked exactly the same as before.
The short business trip passed quickly. I arrived home earlier than usual — around 6:40 PM on a Saturday — and my instinct to type in the code and settle into the comfort of my house suddenly felt distant when I realized my strongest urge was to look at the smear.
I think I had developed a routine around the thing that had appeared so suddenly.
My eyes found the door, and my mind found confusion.
The smear was no longer a shapeless amalgamation of cold colors.
It now formed a skeletal figure, still somewhat difficult to fully make out. From the torso up to the head, leaning slightly forward.
It had no hair, and the shape of the eyes suggested they were wide open, like an unfinished sketch of a painting someone had abandoned halfway through.
I entered the code and went inside to rest. I won’t lie — my curiosity had gotten to me.
I spent almost the entire night returning to the door, trying to figure out whether what I was seeing was real or just pareidolia caused by exhaustion.
But it was still there.
Unchanged.
And since it was Saturday, I spent the rest of the day and all of Sunday trapped in that small paranoia.
But Monday came. I had work to do, so I followed my routine as usual, trying my best to suppress whatever bad feeling that plain, lifeless door gave me.
But as I was leaving the house, I nearly jumped.
The door now showed two eyes — faint, almost faded — complete with irises, sclera, every detail.
And they were staring directly at me.
I grabbed my things and went to the car. It took me about two minutes to drive away. Two entire minutes resisting the urge to look back at the door again.
Then I left.
Problems at work. Apparently, my team and I hadn’t satisfied all the demands of the wealthy clients during the last trip to the neighboring city, and we would need to return to sort everything out.
I was informed about the trip near the end of the workday, and according to what they told me, we would be staying out even longer this time because of the increased workload.
I loved that job as much as I could, but those trips drained me, and I always felt strangely uneasy accepting them, even with the company’s incredible bonus pay.
I got home close to 10 PM, as always.
I froze at the door.
The eyes were still there, staring at something I was too exhausted to understand.
I entered the code and stepped inside.
I’ve been away on business for ten days now, staying at a hotel, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to return home after the cameras and motion sensors identified a dark, bald, humanoid thing with enormous eyes entering my password and walking into my house.
So far, it hasn’t come back out.
#entertainment
source
| 3,000 mlx | |
| 6 | |
| 0 |