The Eighth Gate

7 | Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

"The window," Tamara declared flatly, crossing her arms. "The door closing was caused by that opened window. There must've been a strong breeze that blew in and pushed it shut."

"Oh," Mary replied, darting her eyes between the broken glass of the kitchen window and the pantry door she had heard close. It was open now, and Noah was inside, observing its contents even though everyone was quick to note that there was nothing in there. She shrugged. "Whoops."

"Yeah, 'whoops'," Tamara echoed, a note of irritation in her voice. She sighed. "C'mon, you two. I still have to set up the EVP in the other room in the hall. Then we'll do the infrared camera in the living room, and the—"

"And then we'll go to the master bedroom?" Mary interjected. She couldn't help her desperation from creeping into her words. They were closer to the room now than they were back in the hallway, the change in proximity intensifying the desire Mary felt for entering the room. It was calling, calling, an insistent echo that only Mary could hear, one that grew louder as she got closer. She couldn't ignore it even if she tried.

Tamara placed one hand on her hip and cocked her head; curly strands of auburn hair swept onto one side of her freckled face. Her curious eyes gleamed in the pale moonlight like two sparkling stones.

"Yes," she laughed, shaking her head. "Then we'll go to the master bedroom. Geez, what's your obsession with that place anyway? You've been talking about it ever since we got inside. Do you think all the action's going on in there and that's why we aren't getting any out here?"

It was a genuinely serious question, yet Mary had no idea how to answer it, mainly because she was unsure of she should lie to her best friend or tell her the truth—that the room was an itch she needed to scratch, and she wanted to enter it so badly it reminded her of desperately needing to use the restroom but having to hold it because there wasn't one around.

Mary had just made the conscious decision to admit the strange urges clawing at her insides when Noah made a muffled exclamation from inside the pantry.

"Did ya find any food?" Tamara asked him. "I could really do for some goldfish crackers right now."

"Diddo," Mary added, forcing her jittery leg to sit still.

"No crackers of the goldfish variety in here," Noah called back. Then he emerged with a flashlight gripped in one hand, painting creepy shadows over his illuminated face. In his other hand was a white sphere, dotted with red trails of stitch. "But I did find a baseball. Someone must've been playing outside and it broke through that window."

It made sense, considering the pantry was directly across from the rectangular window. Noah began to toss the baseball up and down, catching it with his free hand.

"Glad we solved one mystery in this house," Tamara said. "If we're lucky, next we'll be able to uncover the secret behind the missing door."

"C'mon, Tamara," Mary whined, nudging her lightly with her hands dug deep into the pockets of her trench coat. "Don't be such a party pooper. We'll find something—you'll see." Mary hesitated, fighting against the current of words attempting to push its way up out of her throat. Finally, she blurted, "And we'll probably be able to find that something in the master bedroom. Just saying."

Tamara gave her a flat look, but there was amusement glistening in her gaze, lingering over the slight smile shaping her lips. "Now how did I know you were going to say that?"

A smothered thump followed by an "Ow." Mary and Tamara glanced up to witness Noah rubbing the top of his head with a pained expression. The baseball lay faithfully at his feet.