The Door

Happy Halloween all! This one’s pretty rushed, and really just the bare bones of a story. Reviews for pointers/comments/ideas for furthering the story are much appreciated!

The air was stale, stiff, smelling of chemicals masking sickness and death, the way hospitals do. Doors, entrances, hung suspended in darkness, a void spanning as far as the mortal eye could see, each one different from its neighbor, ranging from elaborate gates decked in rubies and bronze, to barred cell doors, hanging onto their last hinge. The sounds emanating from behind each closed Door mingled together, creating a harmony unlike any carefully coordinated symphony. The void had no sound that it itself made, save for the low, ever falling drone that simulated an endless fall, tumbling through darkness as these doors so aimlessly did.

The sole things that moved with purpose were distinguished only by their dimly glowing eyes and tattered cloaks that seemed to meld with the darkness and become a part of it. They drifted from Door to Door, stopping at some and watching them in consideration, debating whether or not to open it and allow the void to flood in. Steely fingers would clink against the doorknob, as if it held the final judgement before opening it, to which the void would surge forward with the eagerness of a vulture to a carcass to claim the being behind it, or leaving it behind to exist, untainted by the otherworldly darkness, for a while longer.

The Void was hungry, it always was, as most living things are.

A singular creature drifts to a Door, splashed with baby blue paint and adorned with a silver doorknob. Knife like fingers curve around the silver mound, creating paper thin slices through the metal and sounding with silence where the screech of metal against metal should have been. After a moment of indecision, the Door was opened.

The other side of the Door was silent before it was opened. The room was locked in a stagnant darkness, lit only by the dim glare of a television screen. Toys littered the ground, scattered haphazardly strewn across the bed and perched on a low desk. Leaning against the foot of the bed was a small boy, no older than nine or ten years of age, staring blankly at the flickering screen. For a second, a glitch sparked through the television feed, stopping the images, before starting up again.

Time passes, no more than a few seconds, before it jumps again, once, twice, three times, before breaking into a haze of cackling static, the screen dancing with black and white specks, trying to morph into an image. The boy stared at the box, upset that his program had been disturbed, but as the static shifted, fear rose in his stomach and he pressed his back to the foot of his bed, a small, childish noise of fear pulling itself from his lips. Crimson eyes, surrounded by darkness, cut through the prancing static, unaffected by it.

The Door was opened, and the eyes surged forward, exiting the television, leaving behind its cloak in the void to reveal the figure underneath. Gray skin clung to a yellowing skeleton, draped over bones and held together by thick, black wires, a rusty color seeping through the seams. It oozed out of the screen, tumbling out onto the toy scattered floor in a clattering heap, the void, flowing in a waterfall of liquid darkness, spilled out from the bottom of the Door, bringing the monotone, falling drone with it and filling the room with the sound. With the movements of an old, rusty machine in need of an oiling, jerky and uncoordinated, it stood, hollow eye sockets gleaming with an inner red light and jaw attached only by the wires. Its fingers were long, tampered steel, clanking together when it moved, hanging on limp arms and swaying with the sloppy movements of its gaunt body. Its legs buckled under its weight, just barely keeping it upright, the limbs warped unnatural directions.

A scream died on the child’s lips before he opened his mouth, too terrified to move, to breathe, to think. Blood coursed through his veins, turning his body cold, pounding in his ears like a cadence. The creature took a staggering step forward. And another. It raised its skeletal hand, dagger-like fingers stretching to reach the unblemished skin of the child before it, the void’s darkness lapping at the being’s ankles. A strangled whimper tore itself from the child’s throat, adding his own sound to that of the voids tumbling hum, falling lower, lower, and lower still, increasing in volume all the while as it flooded into the room.

The noise set the creature off. Glinting metal fingers extended in a blur of movement, plunging through the boy’s face, which still held its baby roundness, popping two baby blue eyes and digging a third finger through his forehead. There was no scream, no exclamation of surprise, only thin streams of blood cutting through the child’s pale face, tracing preexisting tear tracks.

The Door cracked, allowing the void to push through the seams, ultimately shattering the television screen to engulf the bedroom in its stale darkness, so that it may be integrated into the void itself. The creature, once again cloaked in its modest coverings, drifted away, moving to the next door, decidedly unimpressed by the smaller, newly cloaked being that drifted away from the spot the baby blue door had once hung.

 

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Published by

desdemonadroland

Just a writer looking for words.

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