Dumbwaiter

a horror short

Jeanette could hear ropes through the walls. Even with a corridor separating her bedroom and living-cum-dining room. They were moving up and down, creaking as they chafed against rusted braces.

It was past midnight. She sighed, climbed out of bed, and went looking for the key to the lock that she’d used to seal the antique dumbwaiter in her flat. The dumbwaiter communicated with a disused cellar.

She found the key in a drawer but on going to the living room stopped as she heard a bump behind the two little doors, which bounced in their frame slightly. She rolled her eyes at her sheepishness, stood here in the middle of the night worried about what exactly? It was probably rats scurrying up and down the ropes. She made a mental note to harangue the landlord. She wasn’t paying to live in a hovel.

The lock had been bought for the dumbwaiter because she’d been paranoid about security ever since a bad experience with a stalker. Though she had to laugh at a sudden image she formed of him, crammed inside the dumbwaiter like the world’s worst bachelorette surprise. Jeanette stepped forward and opened the doors.

And stood still for a moment in shock before screaming and throwing up. Inside the aperture, on an ornate silver tray, was a mountain of gored rats. Arranged like profiteroles with a pink and red glaze.

She stumbled back, fell into an armchair, and fainted. But not before she thought she heard a man’s perverted laughter coming up from the empty cellar, through the dumbwaiter.