In the old days, it was tradition in some places to tell Ghost or
Horror stories at Christmas time (or Yule), much like the story of
Ebeneezer Scrooge. In keeping with that tradition, here is my
submission...

According to Greek Mythology, the god Zeus created Woman to punish Man. He created a Woman named Pandora, and he gave her two things. He gave her a box which he told her never to open, and he also gave her a curiosity that she could never contain. Zeus knew, that Pandora would open the box and release unto the world all of the ills and evils that plague us to this day.

With the following story, I hope to illustrate two things: firstly, that the aspect of curiosity is still very much a part of the human condition, and secondly, that the power of the Supernatural is still very much among us.

The story takes place in England, in the middle of the Victorian era. A young Lord of the Manor has just returned home with his new bride. And for the first several weeks she busied herself; getting to know the neighbors, getting to know the countryside, getting to know her servants, but mostly, getting to know the house that was now her home.

It was a large, rambling type of house with long endless corridors, interconnected staircases, secret passages, nooks and crannies, and she would delightfully explore this place for hours upon hours, until she thought she knew the entire place from attic to cellar.

And when she thought she knew the house from top to bottom, she one day found herself in a hallway she had never seen before. On one wall there hung a large ornate tapestry depicting Lucifer being cast out of heaven, And behind that tapestry was a door; a locked door. She tried every key on her keyring, but to no avail; the door remained locked. She put her ear up to the door to listen, and thought that she could hear what sounded like a child sobbing.

She went back to the servants and asked them about the door. Each of them in turn would only avert their eyes and say, "You must ask the Master...". So that night at dinner, she did. "What is that door?", "What is in the room beyond it. Why is the door locked?". A coldness came over her husband. With eyes that were both angry and fearful he looked at her and said, "You must never, ever go into that room".

"Why?" she asked. "I don't know." he replied. "In the four hundred years that my family have lived in this house, no one has ever gone into that room, and no one ever shall. Please do not mention this again. Do not speak to me of that door or the room."

Weeks passed, but she could not rid herself of the thought of that locked door. Time after time, like a magnet it drew her back to it, and she would stand in front of it for hours wondering what was in that room. Her curiosity had been aroused...

But then one day, Fate smiled upon her, or so it seemed. One day, while she was putting a vase of fresh flowers onto an old dresser, her hands accidentally discovered a hidden recess, and a small wooden leaver moved underneath her exploring fingers. A panel opened at the back of the dresser to reveal a single iron dust-covered key. She knew, without any doubt, that this had to be the key to the locked door. Now all she needed was the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity. She waited, she waited, she waited...

Until one morning, when her husband announced that he would be going away on business, and would not be returning until the evening of the next day. So that night after dinner, she dismissed her servants early and retired to her room and waited. And when she was sure that the house was completely still, with a smile of anticipation she retrieved the key from its hiding place, and aided by a flickering candle, she ascended the darkness of the stairs and down the corridor to the locked door which had intrigued her for so long. With beating heart, she took the key from her pocket and placed it into the keyhole. With a single hollow 'click', it opened and the door moved slowly inwards.

There was nothing that she could see, except an inky blackness. She took a step, and then another step, and then another step, until she stood in the center of the darkened room. She raised the candle higher, and as she did, the flame flickered and died. She was engulfed in darkness, a darkness so heavy, so thick, it was almost physical.

She screamed. It was the scream of a woman totally terrified. The scream of a woman who knew she was about to be destroyed by her own curiosity. A woman screaming because she had finally discovered what was inside that room.

And mingled with her own screams was another sound. A sound so obscene, so primeval, it defies definition. And at the end, she
looked over her shoulder just in time to see the door close and lock itself behind her, forever cutting off her escape and her last
fearful child-like sobs.

What made her scream? What evil was lurking there in that room? What supernatural force caused that door to close all on its own?

I have no idea, but if I ever find out I will let you know.