The Closet Game

The Closet Game, Pt. 4

Her legs felt like dead weight as she took the last step, onto the second-floor landing. There were three bedrooms up here, and a small storage room.

Three closets.

She looked down the long hallway to the right. Mommy and Daddy’s big bedroom was wide open. She saw a little gray light coming through a tall window in there. A cloud shadow still covered the house.

Then she looked down the hall to the left.

Four closets.

There was also the closet below the pull-down stairs to the attic.

She really didn’t want to go near that one. Last night, she heard noises from the attic after everyone went to sleep. She knew Daddy would just wave his hand if she told him, and maybe say “rats,” but she knew something about rat noises, and what she heard wasn’t a rat.

Maybe the wind.

Maybe the wind moving things through an open window.

That’s what she told herself last night, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to pretend she was in her warm bed at home as she listened to the dragging and scraping sounds above her.

She began to walk toward Mommy and Daddy’s room, to check their closet, when she heard a single knock.

She turned around and stared.

It was from the closet under the attic.

“Daddy?” Her voice was trembling. The hallway lit up as the sun appeared. She saw the old closet door clearly, like someone was shining a flashlight on it. Then the clouds came back, and just as fast the light went away. She squinted down the dim hallway.

“Daddy?”

Annie shuffled her feet, moving forward. A few buttercups fell from her hand, and she dragged her sneakers over them, hardly noticing.

As she came closer to the closet door, she slowed down. The unpainted wood was the gray color of an old tooth. Little tunnel tracks squirmed across the surface, like some hungry bug had been chewing it. She hoped Daddy would pop out and say “boo!”, then she could act scared and they could go downstairs and eat grilled-cheese sandwiches and talk about what they were going to do that afternoon.

But he didn’t.

She stepped closer and touched the door handle. The metal felt very cold. She didn’t like that cold feeling.

She began to turn the knob, then paused. She felt a prickling of fear. She had never looked inside this closet before.

The door stuck a little, then scraped open.

“Daddy!”

Daddy was standing in the back of the closet. He had a little smile on his face. His eyes were wide open, in kind of a silly way, like he was trying to be scary.

“Daddy,” she said, breathing easier. “I knew you were hiding somewhere.”

Daddy just looked at her, but his smile made her feel better.

“C’mon, Daddy, let’s go.”

Then he raised his right hand, straight up, like an Indian she once saw in a movie, greeting someone. Annie giggled, because it looked silly. Daddy was silly. She copied his gesture and said, in a pretend serious voice, “Hello, Daddy. Do you want to go eat lunch?”

He nodded slowly. As he did, she frowned. His thick, dark hair looked crooked, the way it sat on his head, like he was wearing a wig that got knocked loose.

“Daddy? What do you want to do?”

He lowered his hand and moved it toward him, in a strange, clumsy motion.

“You want me to come into the closet, Daddy?”

He nodded, still wearing his funny little smile. He didn’t speak.

“Okay, Daddy, I’ll come get you,” she said, smiling back.

Then the sun broke free of the clouds. Bright light flooded the long hallway. Annie froze as she spied a glint from a piece of clear packing tape at the corner of Daddy’s mouth. Small pieces of tape on his forehead held up his eyelids too.

And a clear fishing line, tied to his right hand, went straight up.

“Daddy?”

Her eyes followed the line into the darkness. A hole up there opened onto the attic. She was very quiet and heard slow, rough breathing. In the shadows, she saw a pair of closed hands that were huge and crusted with sores and filthy, like they had just clawed their way out of a pile of mud and dirt after many, many years. The nails were yellow and sharp.

The hands stayed quite still, each holding a fishing line.

Fishing lines attached to Daddy.

“Daddy?” she said, fighting the tears. “Oh God no Daddy Daddy.”

Daddy didn’t say anything. He just stared out at her with his silly fake smile and his wide-open eyes.

His wide-open dead eyes.

Annie jerked back. She slammed the closet door. She stood without moving as the clouds returned and stole away the light, except this time she was certain she would never see the sun again.

Then the horrible chewing noises began. It was like listening to a wild dog that hadn’t eaten for weeks. There were tearing sounds too, like someone ripping a wet bedsheet, again and again.

Crunching. Slurping. Gasping.

Soft moans of pleasure.

When they stopped, she turned.

She ran for the stairs.

She ran for the door.

And once she got outside, she just ran and ran and ran.