The Postman Always Rings Twice (MM/F)

[lanadelgagged]

Policemen and detectives looked at each other in utter confusion. They scanned every corner, every crevice of the house looking for answers. The state of the premises raised more concerns than answers; the house had been stripped of all furnishings, save for a couch and a lamp in the main room. It did not take long for detectives to realise that the house was vacant as if it were up for sale. In the middle of what once was Elizabeth’s bedroom, investigators found a mysterious Polaroid. The image, which appeared to have been taken in the dark with a flash, showed a woman who matched Elizabeth's description with her hands behind her back. Her lips had been concealed behind strip after strip of silver duct tape, her weary eyes glared at the camera and the posture of her jaw suggested she was trying to scream against her gag. The last time Liz had been seen was three days prior. Yet, the fact that her neighbours claimed to have seen her enter but never leave her residence baffled detectives the most…


EARLIER THAT WEEK…


Treading on rustling leaves at a vigorously steady pace, the silhouette of a slim lady clad in an indigo raincoat cuts across the fine curtain of mist that envelops the hiking trail. Elizabeth carries the exhaustion of her morning run to her home’s doorstep, clutching both her knees as she pauses to catch a breath. The postman cast timid glances at the fatigued lady until their gazes meet, waving at each other as the man resumes his usual route. Upon entering her home, Liz observes the stack of correspondence conquering the oak table by the entrance; pile upon pile of unsorted envelopes varying in sizes, with even a cardboard box the size of her hand.

Elizabeth finally bit the bullet and started organising the seemingly endless mountain of correspondence, separating the bills from the pamphlets and arranging the important mail in a separate stack. At this moment, something unusual caught her attention: buried under the cardboard box Liz found a white envelope with no address or sender, seemingly empty. The back simply read “How many doors are in your house?” scribbled in black marker. The handwriting was uneven, as if the sender were standing up at an awkward angle when they scribbled the cryptic query. Her face took on an expression of utter perplexity, dumbfounded by such an unusual question. Even if she were to respond to it, there was no address, no name and no personal information. The sender clearly was not interested in the response, which made the whole prospect rather menacing.

Her mind was plagued with thoughts of who could be responsible for it. Was it a joke? She mused to herself. However, Liz quickly brushed it off and went about her daily duties as if nothing had happened.

The following morning, Liz woke up to rays of sunshine beaming into her bedroom. The weather had finally cleared and it was a magnificent day for her morning run. She set off earlier than usual, eager to enjoy the sights and sounds of the morning. Bathed by early sunlight she trod across the hiking trail, a few minutes walk from home. When she returned, loud music was still blurting out of her headphones and just like yesterday the postman had delivered her mail. She greeted him with a gleeful smile before disappearing into the comfort of her house, where she rid of her shoes and left her walkman on the table next to the correspondence. The postman delivered four envelopes and the daily news, which Liz proceeded to whip through quickly. When she realised there was another blank envelope, her heart skipped a beat. “Count the doors in your house…” it read, the handwriting even less consistent this time, making its appearance the more menacing. There were no markings to be found, once again the sender had left no name or address making the empty envelope untraceable. Elizabeth was uncertain whether she would erupt into a fit of rage or panic, she had already forgotten about the rogue letter yesterday and she feared this would turn into a daily occurrence.

Flinching at the envelope like a mother about to reprimand her child, Liz mused a thought. “There are ten doors in my house” – she thought to herself – “But why on earth would that be so important…” The more she thought about the cryptic messages, the less sense she could make of them. Since the handwriting was so erratic, almost rushed, Liz suspected the postman may be behind such a bizarre plot. A practical joke seemed the most natural explanation for an otherwise puzzling sequence of events.

And thus Liz decided today was the day she’d confront the postman. When she glanced at the man draped in a blue jacket approaching her doorstep, Liz opened the door which seem to startle the postman.

“Oh! Good morning Ma’am”

“You find this amusing don’t you.” – Liz asserted.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, of course, you don’t know. You don’t know a thing about the weird letters you’ve been writing to me for the past couple of days.”

“Madam, I have no clue what you’re talking about. Please calm down, this has nothing to do with me.”

The expression on the woman’s face shifted, and for a brief second, it seemed as though she would erupt into volcanic anger.

“Look, I’ve received some weird empty envelopes with no name or address. You are the only person that delivers my mail so… you tell me…”

“Madam, I have no reason to do something like that. I’m just doing my job, yesterday I delivered you three letters I checked and a newspaper.”

“You mean four letters, right?”

“No, I’m certain it was three as it shows in my records…”

Her face turned to alabaster, from the way he spoke and his facial expressions she could tell the postman wasn’t lying.

“Listen, Ma’am, if you’re receiving weird letters or invasive correspondence I urge you to contact the authorities…”

Without uttering a word, Liz observed as the postman handed her a few letters. She quickly wiped through them in as swift a manner as she could. Nothing was amiss this time, no empty letters or envelopes of unknown sources. Wary that her confrontation may have been inappropriate, she closed the door behind her in shame and watched as the postman resumed his duties. Perhaps she was making too much of a fuss about the situation, maybe she was looking too much into the ordeal.

Liz resolved to take a long, steamy bath later that night to clear her mind. The sun had set over the horizon and the final beams of sunlight glinted off the edges of the curtain railings. Inside her bathroom, Elizabeth had filled the tub to the brim enveloping the room in a fine mist that grew thicker by the minute. She slipped off her bathrobe and dipped her toes into the water, soon the room was conquered by silence. Elizabeth closed her eyes, resting her head on the edge of the bathtub, her ears were seduced by the soothing sound of water dripping from the faucet rhythmically. She thought about the postman, and just how silly she must have looked throwing such accusations at him. She thought about his deer-in-the-headlights stare and the assertiveness in her speech. In fact, Liz thought about so many things that her mind went blank and relaxed, stretching her body as much as the tub allowed.

The mist had cleared slightly as she reached for a white towel. The mirror reflected a blurry naked silhouette, Elizabeth came closer to it and wiped the condensation clean. Suddenly, Elizabeth saw the reflection of a man without a face, standing still. At a glance, Elizabeth noticed he was wearing a suit and his hair was concealed under a round hat. The woman let out a piercing shriek that rang across the house. Liz lounged backwards, dropping to the floor with a racing heartbeat. Her composure regained, Liz glanced at the mirror again, but the mysterious man was nowhere to be seen. She quickly slipped on her bathrobe, trembling in fear. The letters had seemingly triggered her paranoia, and it was getting the best of her. She recomposed herself breathing deeply and trying her best to calm down.

A significantly less shaken Elizabeth made her way downstairs, she had slipped into a massive green hoodie and a pair of cosy white socks that stretched just over her calves. It was dinner time and under the warm lights of the kitchen, she started to prepare dinner. As she fumbled on the drawers, he glanced at the living room and something caught her attention. The glass table now had a white envelope sitting on top, but Elizabeth did not recall leaving any letters there. She tiptoed her way to the dimly lit living room and examined the envelope carefully. One of its edges had been torn there were plenty of creases on the surface. She grabbed it. Something was written on its back. “We have added a door.” It read. Elizabeth opened the envelope, and this time she found something inside: a Polaroid picture. She brought the envelope and its contents closer to the kitchen lights, the image showed a plain white door against a white wall. Under the image more scribbles that read “This is the door.” The picture had apparently been taken at night using flash, and the white resembled the ones in her own house.

Liz noticed that the picture had been taken very recently, the edges of the film paper were still slightly warm to the touch and the few colours hadn’t yet developed completely. Adding to her paranoia, she continued examining the picture in detail. When she turned it around she found yet another message. “DO NOT TRY TO FIND THE DOOR.” scribbled in red marker this time, and with capital letters that filled the centre of the frame. This only added to her paranoia, something inside of her clicked and her sense of survival sent a rush of adrenaline through her entire body.

She put the picture in one of her pockets and began to walk around the house with a flashlight, switching the lights of every room as she walked. Liz went upstairs and carefully examined her bedroom, looking for any potential signs of intrusion. She paid extra attention to the bathroom, where only minutes ago she had seen the silhouette of a suited man in the mirror but found nothing. Her closet too was empty, and sooner than she could realise the upstairs section of the room was clear. She walked downstairs as silently as she could, trying to listen for any noises out of the ordinary. The living room was empty, with no strange envelopes to be found this time, and so was the kitchen. She turned around the back wall that separates the living room area from the home cinema, moonlight crept in through the blinds in the windows eerily. All of the sudden, Liz noticed something was amiss: when she turned on the lights inside the home cinema she looked at the white wall.

What once was an unremarkable white wall now had an equally unremarkable door that wasn’t there before. Liz drew her breath noticing her pounding heartbeat, shivering at the sight and coming close to it. As she neared it, the door suddenly started rattling against the doorframe, in a series of loud noises that startled her. Someone –or something– was seemingly trying to twist the knob from the other side to no avail, the door kept rattling with such an intensity Liz feared it would simply bust open...

However, as Liz rested the palm of her hand against the doorknob, the rattling ceased. A moment of peace conquered the room. Her ears were filled with silence. Elizabeth clutched the doorknob with all her strength. She drew a final breath before mustering the courage; Liz twisted the knob and the door opened with a clicking sound…

The interior was enveloped in darkness, and Elizabeth felt a vague sense of relief. But then, as she pointed the flashlight inside, the inky darkness was pierced by the silhouette of two faceless men wearing suits. Motionless, Elizabeth let out a piercing scream that tore through the air like a blade slicing through silence. So visceral was her yell that the intensity of her emotion was palpable as if every fibre of her being was poured into this one primal cry. Her face contorted in a mask of pain and fear, her eyes wild and unseeing, as she unleashed her torment upon the world. The lingering echoes of the distressed woman seemed to prompt both men to action, they crossed the door as if they were coming from a different dimension and Elizabeth tripped on the floor dropping her flashlight. The men’s movements were perfectly calculated, precise and decisive, in the midst of an invading panic Elizabeth tried to get back on her feet.

She put all her strength into inching away from the menacing silhouettes, and for a brief second, it seemed like escape was a plausible option. But suddenly, one of the men lunged forwards, like a football player tackling an opponent. Elizabeth’s body was pressed to the ground with the force of a thousand giants, the man straddled and gripped one of her hands. Clutching her wrists, her body shifted in place and Liz was now face down. Despite her attempts at moving her hand, the man’s grip was impossible to overcome, sooner than she could ponder the man grabbed her free hand and held them firmly together. It was at this moment that the sound of tape ripping apart pierced Elizabeth’s ears; her eyes filled with fear as she felt the cold embrace of the sticky material enveloping her wrists together. Every time her faceless captor fed the tape against itself, her hands were cinched closer together to the point that she couldn’t move them.

Panic began to settle in, and Liz began screaming for her freedom. Her pleas for help filled the room with angst, the walls reverberated with the intensity of her cries to the point that not even her captors could bear them. Thus the faceless man removed one of her socks while the other pinned her body against the parquet. Screams kept blurting out of her mouth even after the man had lodged her white sock between her teeth; the same roll of silver tape was cut into long strips that were slowly plastered across her lower face. Her mouth disappeared behind a wall of tape, sealing her lips shut and keeping the contents stuffed inside her mouth.

This significantly muffled the helpless lady, a symphony of blurred profanity testified to her growing predicament. Although silenced, Liz kept fighting for her freedom with all her strength. With no use of her wrists, she flailed her legs and feet into the air trying to loosen her captor’s grip. Thrusting in place, tossing, turning, and wriggling away from her captor only prompted the faceless assailants to make the ordeal worse for her. Clutching the roll of tape, the suited man unspooled a long strip which began to feed around her ankles. This simple, yet effective course of action brought the flailing to an end. Liz soon realised amidst her struggles that the tape was significantly stronger than the ones she is accustomed to using, the material clung to her skin firmly and seemed to grow tighter with each motion.

Stuck to her bare skin, the strips of tape on her lips didn’t seem to come off even as the posture of her jaw shifted dramatically. Elizabeth yelled and screamed, shrieks blurted out of her mouth but the gag was impossible to overpower.

After minutes that felt like a lifetime, she felt the weight of the man pinning her to the ground getting lighter. She loosened her grip and both men left her to struggle on the floor. Elizabeth’s instincts kicked in as she tried to get back on her feet, however, the tape was so strongly pressed against her limbs that her movements were ungracefully clumsy. Her incessant struggles had diminished her strength considerably, to the point that she had to stop to catch her breath. She tasted her own sock, and the stifling nature of her muzzle meant she had to pay attention to her breathing. The silhouette of both men disappeared into the living room but suddenly reemerged. Liz watched in horror as the men started carrying the glass table and her belongings into the new door of the house. The objects faded into the darkness never to be seen again, and the men repeated this with the rest of her house.

Petrified, Elizabeth could only but watch, her struggles being brought to a halt. The bedside table, the mattress, kitchen appliances… Anything and everything movable entered the door, and the faceless men carried them with unmatched ease regardless of their size or weight. A sense of deep confusion began to settle, not an hour had gone by since her predicament started yet her house was unrecognisable. Her furnishings and possessions disappeared behind the doorframe’s darkness, even the paintings on the bedroom walls and the ceiling lamps. The chandelier remained inside the home cinema space, and Elizabeth watched both men approach her.

Their lack of expression was unnerving, the fact that they didn’t even have eyes, any emotion, barely any nuance that could reveal the true nature of their intentions. They remained as silent as Elizabeth muzzled lips, not uttering a word or even a sound. Suddenly, one of the men drew a Polaroid camera and pointed it towards the helpless girl, crouching inching closer. Her eyes opened wide as plates, and a series of muffled whimpers and groans preceded the ominous click. The camera flashed and her face was lit in distress, the picture began developing showing the nuances of her predicament. As the photograph was developing, the man disappeared from Liz’s sight. She could hear the sound of footsteps echoing through the flight of stairs, when the man returned they both faced the bound woman.

In a sudden motion, both men started dragging Elizabeth across the floor, every second bringing her closer to the dreaded door. Elizabeth yelled, writhed, wriggled, and voiced her distress as vocally as the gag allowed, her eyes got lost in the infinity of darkness, and the door finally slammed shut behind her…

[DioA]

Poor Elizabeth. As great as sock gags are, they leave one foot too cold or too hot. I wonder if that will even make a difference where she’s going.

[lanadelgagged]

Poor Elizabeth. As great as sock gags are, they leave one foot too cold or too hot. I wonder if that will even make a difference where she’s going.

I do not wish to spoil anything but... I don't think it's gonna make any difference ;)

[AmyRu]

So suspenseful! I love it!

[charliesmith]

That was great! You are a wonderful writer. Catching up with your stories now.

[lanadelgagged]

[mention]charliesmith[/mention] That's quite flattering, I'm so glad you enjoyed it! Hopefully the rest of the stories are up to par as well^^

[Rtj65]

Awesome story! I love the way that you built the suspense gradually throughout, it made the climax all the more satisfying and shocking (in a good way, of course)

[JulieG]

I love this story. Mysterious build up before the abduction. We all know she’s going to be kidnapped in the end but this is a novel twist on that well worn plot device.

[lanadelgagged]

[mention]Rtj65[/mention] I'm glad you enjoyed it! Suspense has always been one of my biggest interests in writing, so it makes me happy to know I did a decent job of it 😆

[mention]JulieG[/mention] You're too sweet, as usual. Thank you for your kind words 💗

[wolfman]

This was a wonderfuly told tale. Self contained, well realised and perfectly paced. Bravo

[mrjones2009]

Another great story. The hot streak continues!

I have no idea what is going to happen next (a bit like Liz) and I really like it (probably not like Liz).

Can't wait for the next part.