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Mr. Lockwood wakes from his feverish sleep. His bedroom is veiled in darkness; the only light comes from the clock at his bedside. He winces when he notices the time. "I wonder why Maria didn't wake me," he thinks, as he makes his way downstairs.
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"Maria!" he calls. "Maria! Where are you?"
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The message light on the answering machine catches his eye. He pushes the playback button, and Maria's voice comes from the speaker.
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"Mr. Lockwood, there has been some trouble here, and I won't be able to return until late tonight. I left your dinner in the refrigerator; you only need to re-heat it. I will explain everything when I get home."
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He checks the number on the Caller ID; it reads: "Santos, Daniel 909-555-7629." He is tempted to dial the number and ask for Maria, then chides himself for being nosy. "You have to learn to mind your own business Lockwood," he thinks, and goes to the kitchen in search of his dinner.
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He smiles when he sees the container of chicken soup. A note from Maria is taped to the lid. "Eat this! Guaranteed to cure you, if it doesn't kill you first!" the note reads. Mr. Lockwood chuckles at the note. Maria loves to make little jokes about her cooking; she is a wonderful cook, but she is too modest to realize it. He heats the soup in the microwave, and takes it back to his room. His fever, and a full stomach, soon lulls him back to sleep.
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He reawakens to find bright sunlight streaming through the windows. Maria is sitting by his bed, with an anxious look on her face.
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"I shouldn't have left you in your condition," she says fretfully.
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Mr. Lockwood smiles, and says, "Nonsense Maria! I am fine. I think the rest has broken my fever. Now tell me what happened at the lighthouse."
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When I arrived at the lighthouse Michelle ran to my car. She surprised me by saying, "Thank God you are here Maria! We need your help!" The desperate look in her eyes made my heart miss a beat.
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"What's wrong child?" I asked, as I stepped from my car.
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"It's Danny! He locked himself in his room after Mr. Lockwood visited the other day, and he refuses to open the door, or even respond. Mick and I tried to force the door open, but it would not budge. Dietz even tried blowing the lock off with his weird gun, but he was so drunk that he missed. The bullet ricocheted off the walls of the stairwell, nearly killing him. So, we made him promise not to try again. Maybe you can talk to Danny; you always know the right thing to say."
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I followed her inside, and Mick greeted me with equal distress. "He hasn't come out for nearly three days Maria," Mick said in frustration. "I left food outside his door, but it went untouched."
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At their insistence, I marched up the stairs, and pounded on the door. I really did not care if he ever came out, but the pleading look in Mick and Michelle's eyes softened me. "Daniel Santos! You open this door!" I shouted. "I don't know what kind of game you are playing this time, but you are worrying your family sick!" Silence met my cries. I rapped on the door until my knuckles throbbed. I switched to my foot, and kicked furiously.
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"Stop acting like a spoiled child Danny!" I continued. "Open this door now!"
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I placed my ear to the door, and heard nothing but the echo of my own heartbeat. "Mr. Lockwood told me what he saw in the cellar!" I called, trying a different approach. "I know how much you must be hurting. Please let me in, so we can talk. I know our relationship is not what it used to be, but I am the only person alive who can understand what you are feeling."
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Danny did not respond, and I grew angry. "O.K. Danny! You leave me no choice!" I screamed. "I will get this door open, or die trying!"
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I went back downstairs, and told Mick to call a locksmith. He seemed relieved for somebody else to take charge of the situation. I wondered why he had not thought of a locksmith earlier, but then I recalled his fear of Danny's wrath.
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Mick had learned a hard lesson the last time he went against his uncle's wishes....One I am sure he did not wish to repeat.
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However, I was not afraid of Danny. Maybe I should have been, but I was determined not to let him scare me anymore. I was tired of being weak and powerless. It was time for me to take a stand, before he caused more pain for the people I loved.
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When the locksmith arrived, I told him to follow me up the stairs. He inspected the lock, and chose a small tool from his bag. In moments, the lock sprung free, and he reached for the doorknob. I quickly jumped in front of the door, blocking his entry. I did not want him to be in the line of fire; there was no telling how Danny would react when the door opened against his will. I thanked the locksmith, and sent him downstairs to be paid for his services.
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I waited for the sound of the locksmith's truck driving away, before I turned the knob. The door slowly creaked open, and a harsh coppery smell assaulted my nostrils. I tried to scream, but my voice caught in my throat. I just stood and stared at the horrible sight.
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The blood....Oh God....the blood!
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