The Door

I stood fast before the door, pondering it’s ability to exist, I looked for flagstone and foundations believing it to a remnant of a home now gone. But none were there, just a door in the middle of a field. And me standing before the door.

Reaching out, I placed my hand on its roughened surface, the door, once white, now tattooed with cracks showing a faded greying wood below. Rubbing a panel tiny flecks of paint darted here and there.

I pushed on the door in an attempt to push it over and be done with the lie that a door could simply exist, standing free. Rather than fall I heard the distinct click of a latch and the groan of hinges that hadn’t moved for many years, and I saw the door begin to swing open.

My eyes widened taking in the horror of the place beyond the door. A rush of heat littered with grit warmed my face, an acrid stench filled my nose as terror gripped my heart.

I stepped beyond the threshold, gravel scraping below my feet pushing into the flesh. I stepped further in, drawn by an unknown desire to be within this place.

Behind me the door closed, I heard the groan of the hinges, the click of the latch and turned to see the door was no more. I was enveloped by the the scene, I felt alone.

Then I felt I was being watched, the sensation was unmistakable. Eyes were on me from the darkness. A ragged call from the void hurt my ears and set my heart racing faster.

First one, then many misshapen figures were making their way through the darkness, I felt the heat rising as the crowd drew near.

And then there was a beam of light, it descended from the cavern, moving its way through the black until it surrounded me. There was a flood of fear beyond the light. A scream of agony and the smell of burning flesh.

Bathed in the light I turned my face upward and smiled. My feet left the ground, I was ascending, accompanied by a chorus of guttural groans from those left below. And I heard a voice. She called to me from above and said unto me

“Welcome home.”

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