Thr3e

by Ted Dekker

opened an old wooden door and there, five feet away, was the dark stairway. Kevin jerked back and very nearly ran for his life. But it was only a stairway. What if the boy wasn’t there anymore? He could see the latch on the steel door in the shadows below. Seemed safe enough. You have to do this, Kevin. If you’re anything like a knight or a man or even a boy who’s already eleven, you have to at least find out if he’s in there. Kevin played his light down the stairwell and forced his feet down the stairs, one step at a time. No sound. Of course not—it had been four months. The steel door latch was still closed as if he’d thrown it closed yesterday. He stopped in front of the door and stared, unwilling to actually open it. Visions of pirates and dungeons full of skeletons clattered through his mind. Behind him the moonlight glowed pale gray. He could always run up the stairs if a skeleton took after him, which was incredibly stupid anyway. What would Sam think of him now? “Hello?” he called. Nothing. The sound of his voice helped. He walked forward and knocked. “Hello?” Still nothing. Slowly, heart thumping in his ears, palms wet with sweat, Kevin eased the latch open. He pushed the door. It creaked open. Black. Musty. Kevin held his breath and gave the door a shove. He saw the splotches of blood immediately. But no body. His bones shook from head to toe. It was real. That was blood all over the floor. Dried and darkened, but exactly where he remembered it should be. He push...