Free The Space Between by Erik Tomblin

square outline of a door: two hinges on the left, a thick metal ring fastened to the center on the right. Isaac scooted closer, taking the ring in his free hand.
    As the muscles tightened in his arm, preparing to lift, his thoughts flashed back to the events the night before. It was not lost on him that the whole fiasco centered on another door. A hallucination of a door , he insisted. And, of course, he had to wonder if this wasn't just another hallucination. No, it's right there, really there. If it was, he thought it was a damn good one and at least deserved a little investigation.
    Isaac pulled, the heavy door following his grip up and over to the left where it slipped from his hand and banged against the floor, sounding off like a gunshot in a car. With the lamp held over the hole, he could see a wooden ladder leading down to a dirt floor. He lay on his stomach and lowered the light into the opening, his head following. Now he could make out the size, roughly the ten-by-ten he'd measured off by sound on the floor. The walls were made from planks of wood, about six inches wide and running vertically from floor to ceiling. Three horizontal strips of wood ran across the wall: at the top, the bottom, and the middle.
    Bending his neck further down, Isaac looked toward the only corner of the room that didn't butt up against the perimeter of the barn. Though his view was upside-down, he could make out an old wooden bed. There was no mattress; only brittle pine slats running from one side to the other. Taking another glance around the subterranean space he confirmed that the bed was the only item present.
    Isaac pushed up from the floor and swung his legs around, letting them hang down through the opening, then maneuvering them onto the first rung. He set the lamp on the barn floor while he stepped down the next few rungs. As his face passed below the planks, he reached up and grabbed the lantern.
    Standing on the dirt floor, Isaac held the lantern high. The ceiling, which was the underside of the barn floor, was at least a foot higher than his hand. Isaac spun in a slow circle, examining the room but still seeing nothing beyond what he had from the entrance. He stopped to face the corner with the lone bed pressed against the wall, then began walking toward it. As he closed the distance, Isaac felt his right boot kick something small but solid, and he glanced down in time to see it slide under the bed.
    When he reached the corner, he attempted to find what he had kicked, but the slats on the bed cast too many shadows that swayed and rocked with the movement of his hand. Isaac reached down to remove one of the slats, but found it had been nailed to the frame. He checked the others and saw that they had also been fastened in place in the same manner: three nails on each end. Isaac was no carpenter, but he knew that even if someone had a reason to nail the pine boards down — and he couldn't think of one offhand — then one nail should be sufficient. Two nails would be more than enough.
    But three? Whoever did this didn't want these boards coming off.
    Isaac looked at the bed, this new curiosity putting him in a wary state of mind. He wondered why there would be a bed here to begin with. It was possible that this was actually a tornado shelter, but that still didn't explain the bed. Tornados pass through quickly. Perhaps a farmhand once stayed down here. It might be a good place to sit and wait for livestock thieves.
    Isaac laughed, the sound falling flat in the underground dwelling. He was letting his imagination get away from him once again, though he had to admit it was easy in such a setting. There was the old, deserted barn with a hidden room under the floor, lit by a single oil lamp. The only thing left to complete the B-movie tone would be if the lamp went out, especially since the matches were all the way back by the front door.
    His smile disappeared at this thought, and he quietly cursed himself, hoping he hadn't tempted