"Should I open it...?"
A young man stared at a door that had suddenly appeared in his room. It was made of wood painted in a dark brown color, adorned with strange patterns carved into its surface, resembling an ancient work of art.
He was curious about the door, but hesitant—unsure whether to inspect it himself or call the police.
...
Reyhan, or Rey as people usually called him, was an ordinary worker who made a living by taking odd jobs. He had worked in many fields: online driver, food courier, construction laborer, restaurant server, and many more.
Today marked exactly one week since he became unemployed. Rey had been fired from his job as a restaurant waiter after arguing with his boss. Not because Rey enjoyed conflict, but because his boss once again refused to pay his overtime wages, giving him countless infuriating excuses.
This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, so he wasn't too devastated. Being only a high school graduate, Rey was often told to do tasks outside his job description, either by his boss or coworkers.
With Rey's stubborn personality, he naturally refused to follow unreasonable orders. As a result, he rarely lasted more than three months at any job.
...
Rey lived in a house he inherited from his parents, located on the outskirts of a small town. Though far from the city center, the area now had plenty of modern facilities.
Since his savings were still enough to get by, Rey wasn't in a hurry to find a new job. He wanted to take it easy for a while and let go of the exhaustion that had built up from his previous work.
So, he went to the nearest convenience store to buy some snacks and a few bottles of his favorite cola for a late-night session.
When he returned home, he stored all the fresh food in the fridge and carried the rest to his room. But as he entered and was about to close the door, he froze.
A door—one that hadn't been there before—had appeared right next to his bedroom door.
Seeing a door that didn't exist moments ago now standing there sent a chill down his spine. His body turned weak as if drained of strength, goosebumps rose all over his skin, and cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
...silence....
After standing motionless for a while, he finally snapped out of it and—
"G-Ghost…!!!" Rey screamed, his voice trembling.
Immediately after shouting, he bolted out of the house, adrenaline surging through him. Even so, his trembling legs caused him to crash into the sofa and walls in the living room as he fled.
Outside, Rey stopped and looked back at his house, trying to calm himself down. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his heart pounded from the sudden rush.
When his breathing steadied, he took a sip from the cold cola still in his hand, which he hadn't even realized he was still holding. With one gulp, he emptied it.
"Haahhh…" he exhaled loudly.
Rey sat on the quiet roadside, leaning against a large tree behind him. He just sat there, staring at his house, debating whether to go back in and investigate or seek help and return with company.
After ten minutes of deep thought, Rey finally began to feel better. He had always been terrified of ghosts. Living alone in a large old house didn't help—his imagination often conjured creepy thoughts that only fed his paranoia.
Summoning what courage he could muster, he slowly walked back inside, his nerves still taut. Standing in front of his bedroom door, which he hadn't managed to close earlier, he glanced inside. Everything seemed exactly as he had left it. Nothing had changed.
That gave him a small boost of confidence.
He entered carefully, eyes locked on the mysterious door. It remained motionless and silent. His fear gradually subsided, though he still didn't dare to approach recklessly.
Then he remembered something.
Heading to the kitchen, he grabbed the cleaver he often used to chop meat.
Back in the room, holding the cleaver in his right hand, he slowly approached the door and reached for the doorknob with his left. His heart pounded harder and harder the closer his fingers got.
"..."
But what he feared didn't happen. Nothing occurred when his hand touched the knob.
Seeing no immediate danger, he carefully turned it and pushed the door open just a crack.
From within, a sound leaked out—a sound that froze him in place. His entire body locked up in terror.
To his mind, the noise resembled the tortured screams of monsters and ghosts in hell. Of course, this was just his fear twisting reality.
As he calmed slightly, the sound gradually shifted into something familiar: the rhythmic splash of water, like someone showering.
Fear and curiosity tangled within him, making his breaths heavy. With his heart racing wildly, he dared to bring his eye close to the narrow gap.
Suddenly, he stiffened. The sight before him made his blood run cold for an instant. This was something he'd only ever seen on screens, but witnessing it in reality set his body ablaze with restless heat.
Through the thin veil of steam filling the room beyond, a woman stood bathing, lathering her body with soap, not a single thread covering her skin. She was tall and slender, her curves sharp yet elegant, like a perfectly sculpted figure. Her long brown hair clung wetly to her smooth back, and droplets of water traced down her form, following the natural lines of her body.
Rey stared through the gap, motionless, unable to tear his gaze away. He remained there for minutes before finally closing the door. Feeling a certain discomfort in his body, he headed to the bathroom for a moment.
...
Fifteen minutes later, Rey emerged, refreshed and clear-headed. Sitting on his bed, he stared at the mysterious door, countless thoughts swirling in his mind.
He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to process what had just happened.
"This… is insane. How can there be a door in my room that connects to someone else's bathroom?" he muttered under his breath.
He stood again, approaching the door—but this time without touching it. He simply examined it closely, as if hoping to find some logical explanation.
"Is this… a portal? Some kind of trick? Or am I just dreaming?" he wondered, recalling all the stories and fiction he'd seen before.