It's time for the October post, and this story is a haunting one to fit the season. If you would like to support my writing and allow me to continue with frequent updates, visit my Patreon and become a patron. You can also purchase my poetry book, "Living Day By Day: A Collection of Poems," and leave a review. If you aren't interested in becoming a patron or buying my book, you can support me through Paypal.Me.
"Ding, ding, ding," a shaky hand silences the quiet alarm. Yawning, Dorian checks his phone. At first, the hazy numbers didn't make sense. Then, as his eyes began to focus, he read the time clearly. It's 7:43 PM. The museum closed 43 minutes ago. How did nobody spot him and tell him to leave? Thinking back, he started his nap at 3 and should have woken up at 4:30 at the latest. The museum staff would have never let a stranger just sleep past closing. What if he stole something? Better yet, what happened to security? A security guard should have kicked him out by now! Although, the actual mystery is how he can stand sleeping on the oddly shaped couch. Dorian finally gets up and shakes the numbness out of his body. He looks at his phone and sees that it only has 17% battery life left. Checking his backpack, he doesn't find his phone charger. Of course, it would still be in his car. With little battery left, Dorian chooses not to call anyone until he leaves the museum.
Taking a look around, he notices that the museum looks off. Artworks are either warped and placed elsewhere or are missing. As far as Dorian knows, none of the missing artworks could have been moved soundlessly. An uneasy shiver takes hold of Dorian's shoulders as a strange chill takes over the room. Unsettled, Dorian abandons his resting place and hurries to find an exit. The confusing hallways usher Dorian left and backward to deeper and darker spaces inside the museum. Until Dorian came across the 'Lying Portraits Room,' he stopped walking. Then, an unnerving call from within the room pulls Dorian to look inside. He's briefly blinded by the humming white lights. When his eyes adjust to the lighting, Dorian faces six paintings.
Each painting shows the same beautiful young man in different poses. Besides, each portrait isn't a description but directions. Dorian gets closer to the pictures and doesn't realize that the doorway behind him seals close. The moving walls are unwilling to allow Dorian to take a step back. Moving forward, Dorian inches closer to read the plaques. For some reason, Dorian feels foreign eyes watching him. Unable to shake the feeling, Dorian looks around the room. It's then he realizes that the room is completely sealed. In a panic, Dorian rushes around the room, feeling for an exit.
With nothing left to do, Dorian goes back to the portraits. From the far left, Dorian starts reading the six different plaques. "Force your way right, no matter how dark it gets." Dorian moves to the second sign. "Left, left, left, right, left is the way you must go." Unable to see how either direction could help him, Dorian reads the third one. "The first portrait will have you swallowed up by the dark. Trust the second painting only." Remembering he's inside the "Lying Portraits Room," Dorian discards the second and third pictures. Moving on to the fourth painting, the sign reads, "As long as you have a light, no darkness can claim you." Seeing this, Dorian knows not to trust the first and fourth plaques. Hopefully, one of the last two signs will have the answer to escaping the museum. "Chase the light even if you feel you're going backward. Be patient, and don't rush in dimly lit hallways. Stay in the light; the exit will appear." Not wanting to get his hopes up, Dorian moves from the fifth plaque to the sixth. "Don't trust what the fifth painting says as they're lying. Only trust what the fourth portrait has to say." Dorian smirks and mindlessly announces aloud, "Seems like I'll be following what the fifth plaque said."
Turning away from the painting, Dorian rechecks the room for an exit. Spotting a doorway that wasn't there before, Dorian moves toward the doorway. A violent rip is heard behind him, and Dorian quickly turns around. The beautiful man in the six pictures is either disfigured or killed. The first picture has the man blinded with a bloody knife in his hand. His eyes bleeding black shadows. His twin in the second portrait has the skin on his left side peeled off. Within his right hand is the knife used to remove the skin. The triplet in the third painting is gushing blood from his mouth. His tongue was likely cut out by the version of himself from the first picture. The quadruplet is a mess of tears and snot, surrounded by endless shadows. Only the dying candlelight keeps him safe. Strangely, the quintuple isn't within his painting. Merely a well-lit room with an open door to the outside. The last portrait has the beautiful man torn to shreds by the bleeding shadows. The longer Dorian gazes at the corpse, intensify the metallic stench of blood invades his nose. His eyes burn and water the longer he looks upon the painting. With the stinging becoming too much for his eyes, Dorian looks away.
Taking the hint, Dorian leaves the "Lying Portrait Room" and resists the strange call the space had on him. Fleeing through the reappeared doorway, Dorian chases the light. As he runs, he hears something lurking behind him. Slowing down, Dorian peers back and sees the darkness unleash shadowy tentacles his way. Unwilling to meet death or capture, Dorian picks up his pace and follows the golden light. For hours he runs and is nearly cornered by the darkness in several dim hallways. Until he finds an open door. A glowing red sign reads "exit," and Dorian breathes a gasp of relief. With a last burst of energy, Dorian dashes through the door. He's welcomed by a blinding white light and an unsettling feeling that he didn't make it out of the museum. END.
