There had been warnings of course about the door. To stay away. Leave it shut lest you were happy to invite trouble.
Most people complied but there was always someone who thought they had it in them to tempt fate.
It was by anyone’s standards an imposing structure. Built in 1742 by Canon Wexler the then Vicar of St Goodman’s. Built from the sturdiest hardwoods it had stood the test of time.
The door had been locked in 1876 after a very nasty event in which the then vicar Charles Watershed had been caught pressing young ladies into acts irregular.
It remained locked as no one knew where the key was and the room behind it had since gained a reputation for salacious intent.
So it came to be that one Temple Parsons decided to see what was behind the door. He engaged a locksmith to find a way the open the lock and after a week of careful manipulation the door was finally ready to be opened.
Temple was excited at the prospect and was eager to enter the room. What he found horrified him and led to him scrambling to the door only to find it shut and him on the inside holding the key with no key hole on the inside.
Around the walls of the room sat skeletons, all neatly sitting as if waiting. Each one holding a key in their boney hands.
He tried to call for help but the room was soundproof, those on the outside heard nothing, their calls went unanswered they assumed Temple was gathering all the information he so desired and would come out in due course.
But due course never arrived and as they believed he had the only key to get out they waited on one side while inside the frantic Temple looked, pounded, called, sought any way possible to escape.
Looking around he noticed a space along the wall for one more body.