Pentober 2026 - Day 27: Key

Ok so, what is Pentober? Promptober? It's a writing tradition that's been around the web for a while where you write up a short story every day in October based on prompts. Some go for pen and paper, some digital; everyone has their own style. I'll be posting here, and I'll be using the prompts from https://www.topinfiction.com/p/pentober-2026 

House rules are that I vomit-write the story; no planning, just taka taka taka on the keys. I get ONE edit at the end of the draft (if I even have time, lol), then we post it. House rules also say that I get to play catch up and do multiple days separately on one day or combined if work gets wild and I can't write. Get it? Got it? Good! Here we go.

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"No key came with the house?"

"I mean the keys to the doors we KNEW about did, yeah. But...no one knew about some random old door behind a wall."

"Yeah, fair. That was a dumb question."

"Yeeeeeess it wasssss, Bill. Yes it wassss."

Bill took a look at the old, paint-chipped door. The hinges were solid; so was the deadbolt and the doorknob. The keyhole was one of those old ones for an old brass key. That was a custom job. Most things about the door were roughly 1950s. The keyhole was 1800s.

"You know what's weird, Jace? We're on the outside."

"What do you mean? We're in a basement."

Bill pointed at the deadbolt, "It's bolted from the other side. The door is locking US out."

"Do you think you can get through it?"

"I mean I could always just take an axe to it I guess but that would take forever. Or a chainsaw. Let me get some tools and mess around. Old locks aren't that crazy."

Bill shambled off to the tool bench and started gathering an array of screwdrivers, putty knives, 5-in-1 tools, lock picks, oils, sprays, and kneepads.

"Rust and time is going to be our enemy here..." he strapped on the kneepads and got down on both, while saturating all of the locking mechanisms with lubricants and slicing away layers of old paint that could get in the way, cause sticking, or hide some hidden detail.

"Looks like there's writing on the original door. Peel that off while I work on this..."

Bill started walking his 5-in-1 tool over the deadbolt until he was able to get it to loosen up and push back. That problem was solved. He tried to hook and push back the doorknob's lock to no avail. He'd have to pick it. He got to work figuring out the right size tools and tension rods to make it happen. Years as an amateur miscreant were, finally, paying off. Little chips of paint snowed down on Bill's head and back as Jace peeled off paint, revealing more and more of the original door's text. "Man, I hope this isn't all lead paint," Jace said. Bill laughed, "It definitely is." "Oh I know what this door says. It's from Lord of the Rings. Speak friend and enter. The elvish word for friend is mellon in Sindarin and firindil in Quenya," Jace said. Years as a professional nerd were, finally, paying off.

"Dweeb," Bill said, "Got it!" The lock clicked back and Bill tested the door knob. It rotated.

"Open it!" Jace said. Bill did, slowly, with an eye towards the dramatic. Jace ran to grab a flashlight and shined it into the void.

"A...cave?"

"Hey man, it's free real estate..." Bill took a step in and Jace followed. A breeze slammed the door shut and, turning around, Jace could find no door. He started repeating mellon, firindil, mellon, firindil over and over again but no door appeared.

"Up is out, right? How big could this be? We can only be like two stories down from a surface entrance or something...probably a sewer." Bill started finding his way up and out, or so he thought.