The Door of Flesh

by Luke M. Charles

  Flinching away with pain, I felt the room turn around me and the ceiling stretch out. The witch's dark eyes turned green, a soothing emerald green. They reminded me of someone forgotten, but my mind ebbed and flowed to different images.

  The green was like the soft grass between my bare little toes when I was a child, sitting down in a field with an open picnic basket nearby and a blanket spread out. Stroking my hair was my mother, soothing me as she examined my hand that had a large splinter stuck deep inside. She pulled the splinter out and blood dripped from the wound, down my finger and onto the green grass. Only a red drop at first, but then it spread to all the other blades like a wild fire until the whole field burned a fiery crimson.

  “No.” The witch slapped me, stopping the vision.

  “What's happening?” I asked disorientated.

  “I'm trying to remove the curse.” She answered. “I have hope with you, because you're different than the others. You did this out of love rather than greed or hatred. Remember your love.”

  The green; a forest green, a money green, the green of my childhood stuffed animal, the green moss that grew along the base of the sequoias. No, the green were eyes, it was the color of Jenifer's eyes.

  I remember her sitting across from me at the restaurant. Jenifer playfully winked at me after I told a joke. Her hand on mine, she smiled and told me how she wanted to get away from it all. Her job, her family, and even her fiance, someone she had grown apart from in the past year. I told her I had fallen for her and I also wanted to leave and make a life somewhere else.

  But the happy moment darkened as the sunny day outside the window quickly turned black and the bright headlights of a car flipped on, shining directly upon us. Jenifer moved her hand away from mine and began choking. She grabbed her neck and convulsed for a few moments. Her green eyes turned to a coal black. Slithering out of her nose, ears and mouth, and spiraling outward were blood red tentacles. Frozen in fear at the sight, I couldn't look away. Grabbing both my hands with an icy grip, she squeezed me tight.

  I awoke back in the witch's apartment, shaking in the ropes that bound me.

  “The salve has failed.” The witch said, looking down at me with sadness. “I'm sorry, but there's nothing more I can do.”

  “What is this curse, what's happening to me?” I pleaded for answers.

  “I shouldn't say because it will only torment you more.” She kissed my forehead. “Your death will not be easy.”

  The softness of the kiss injected into my skull like a rail spike, and I blacked out.

  Chapter 7

  Waking up in my apartment dazed, I lied on my living room floor. My jacket was thrown across my couch and everything taken; keys, weapons, wallet, phone, all gone. The door wouldn't budge and a solid piece of metal that appeared to lock from the outside, had replaced the handle.

  The witch's words can't be trusted. How could I have done this to myself? Why would I do such a thing? And what was that vision of Jenifer at the restaurant? Probably something implanted with her dark magic.

  I've tried escaping through my bedroom windows but they won't budge. Throwing my largest pan repeatedly at one of them for more than an hour left it merely cracked. Eventually the window reformed itself, reversing all my efforts to escape. Besides, my apartment is too high up for me to safely jump down even if they could be opened.

  I did, however, find the small ice pick in my jacket. It had fallen through a hole in the pocket and went inside the jacket, preventing the witch from finding it. I've been using it to hack away at my door frame for several hours, working at it from multiple angles and bloodying up my knuckles a little. But the hard work has paid off and I finally pried open my door. Now that the frame is hacked apart and the door is nearly falling off it's hinges, I can peek out into the empty hallway.

  Cool, quiet, and motionless. It triggers a sinking feeling in my stomach but it's still my only way out, I have to try. Hopefully I can escape and get help.

  Chapter 8

  It's all futile. I'm stuck in here until death. The evil that surrounds me is insurmountable. But perhaps my words can live on. This is what happened.

  Putting my foot down in the hallway felt like stepping on a spider's web that sent shock-waves outward, alerting some unseen sinister force lurking in the shadows. Every creak in the floor boards shattered the absolute silence around me. My breath created the only breeze in the stale, chilled air. Everything had eyes that peered at me, knowing I'm trying to leave.

  Going to the elevator, I pushed the button, but it was unresponsive, or so it seemed. Heading to the staircase, I jiggled the handle and the door cracked open, but blocking the way was a solid brick wall. Pushing up against it with my hands, I tested it's strength. Hearing a ding from the elevator, the clacking of hooves filled the hallway. Fear filled my senses, knowing the horseman was back.

  Rushing to the door of the closest apartment, which was thankfully unlocked, I hurried in and quietly closed the door. Backing away, I hoped I remained hidden from the creature.

  Newspapers covered everything in the apartment; the walls, the furniture, the dishware, and they were also stacked up in various places with a few piles reaching as high as the ceiling. Sitting on the couch in the living room were people, or not people, but figures in the shape of people, wrapped in cocoons of finely shredded newspapers. One of them held a cup filled with coffee, and the other held an open book. Something played on the TV in front of them, but a layer of newspaper blocked the view. The light of distorted images flickered through.

  Falling upon the base of the door was the shadow of the horseman followed by heavy breathing and hooves clacking against the floor. I ran between the piles of newspapers, going further and further back into the apartment to hide.

  The door broke apart, smashed with the kettle-bell sized fists of the horseman, and fragments shot against the wall, ricocheting in different directions. Looking back at the horseman through a small opening between the stacks of paper, I saw that his body was bruised, bloodied and beaten from his encounter with the robed people at the wharf, but still fearsome.

  Needing a place to hide, I pushed further in, going until I found myself quickly surrounded by rows of newspapers that expanded in every direction like a maze with no end. Above me was a veil of impenetrable darkness that looked to stretch on forever.

  The thumping of hooves stayed at my heels so I kept moving. Pressing my bloodied knuckles against the newspapers at every turn, I marked a way back to follow. This, unfortunately, also gave the horseman the ability to track me so I rushed through the maze, zig-zagging randomly through the rows, hoping to confuse the beast. It worked and I got a substantial lead on him but I also stopped bleeding, soon my trail would end.

  Coming into a small clearing, I knew I had to double back this beast here or be forever lost. Pulling down papers from the top of a stack, I scattered them across the floor, making a large pile. Taking off my shirt, I stuffed it under the newspapers.

  All the newspapers, I just noticed, had the same article printed on their pages. Having no time to read it, I rolled one of them up and stuffed it into my back pocket. Thumping hooves on the ground indicated the horseman was mere seconds away. Hiding around a nearby column, I slowed my breathing.

  Lumbering into the clearing, the creature stopped for a moment to look around. With flared nostrils, it sniffed the chilled air. Even though my heart raced, I stood there motionless. Growling, the horseman moved towards the pile of newspapers I had laid out, his stride purposeful and strong. Reaching down, his massive hands brushed aside the papers and found my shirt.

  Readying my hands against the column of newspapers, I tensed all my muscles. The beast lifted up my shirt, looked at it, and squeezed it in his hands. Throwing it down, he stomped on it with frustration and cried out into the coal black sky.

  Pushing as hard as I could against the large column of papers, they toppled over and hit the beast, knocking him down and pinning
him to the floor.

  Following my trail of blood, I ran back through the maze and out of that place.

  Chapter 9

  Entering into the hallway, I noticed it was no longer straight but it now meandered like a river, making me wonder if I came back the right way. The horseman suddenly entered the hallway just behind me, limping. He reached out for me and touched my arm, but I escaped his grasp and rushed down the winding hallway.

  Looking desperately at all the passing doors, I hoped to find mine. Limping close behind, the horseman cried out in pain from his injured leg. Rounding the last corner, I finally saw my door open and broken, the way I had left it, at the far end of the hallway.

  Outstretched hands suddenly reached for me, sprouting out from the deepest, darkest shadows in the hallway. Arms that bent like thick vines and fingers that were skinny and elongated like branches of an old tree.

  Grabbing at me, one hand swiped at my head but I knocked it's bony fingers away. Ducking into the nearest apartment, I slammed shut the door. This apartment looked as normal as it could be, which was a relief. The hands clawed and teared at the door so I began pushing the couch forward for better reinforcement, but the door shattered and pieces flew across the living room. Running into the kitchen, I grabbed a large knife that rested there and faced the onslaught of hands reaching for me.

  Advancing quickly, one of them swiped at me with it's long twig finger. Stepping to the side, I swung the knife upwards and sliced the finger clean off. It fell to the floor and wiggled like an giant earthworm. That hand backed off injured, but another one replaced it. Approaching me with caution, they encircled me and trapped me against the corner of the kitchen. As they got steadily closer, I held the knife up and threatened their advance. But I knew I wouldn't last long.

  Bursting into the room with a battle cry, the horseman startled the hands. Biting into one of them with his sharp teeth, green blood gushed out and poured to the floor. The hand went limp and withered away into dust. Abandoning me, the other hands grouped against the horseman.

  Swinging his fists, he hit them and knocked them around with his strength. But there were too many and they clawed and swiped at the horseman's flesh, cutting him apart piece by piece.

  Carefully crawling under the swinging arms, I made it to the door and stepped outside. Turning back for a moment, I saw the horseman held up in the air by his limbs, being squeezed and stretched out. Giving me one last look of agony, the hands ripped the beast limb from limb.

  I rushed to my door and into my apartment. Shoving my dining table and couch against the door, I barricaded myself away from the hands. The clawing and scratching soon ended and a silence once again settled in the hallway.

  Chapter 10

  Heat radiates from the walls, ceiling and floor. Flames I cannot see surround me, scorching my flesh and boiling my blood. Panic overtakes me, tingling every inch of my body. Fear wells up deep inside me and is coming up over my head. Pouring out from the hole in my cheek is an violent ocean of hatred and rage that drowns my feelings of hope, love, and kindness; washing my humanity away.

  Writing this prevents me from completely sinking into it's dark madness. Someone must know what happened, these are my last words. Beads of sweat and blood drip onto these pages.

  I'm trying to remember Jenifer, one of the last pieces to this puzzle. Wrapping around my memories is a blanket of darkness, making it hard to focus my thoughts.

  The newspaper I took from the maze tells me about her. While she left her apartment, she was struck by a car that had been parked up the street, but it's breaks malfunctioned. She was taken to the hospital in critical condition and in a coma. I almost can't bear to read the next line in the article. It says that she was pregnant, but the child didn't survive. It was my child, I don't remember, but I just know.

  The darkness has let go of my memories for a minute, allowing me to see clearly. Appearing in my mind is the face of an older gentleman with white hair and a white beard, dressed in a black suit with a gray overcoat.

  “May I come in?” He asked, standing at my doorway.

  Contacting me through the hospital, he said he wanted to talk about matters of insurance, but he was here for something else.

  “I can bring her back. Out of the coma.” He said as he looked at me with unwavering, unflinching eyes. “Make her whole again.”

  I nodded my head, believing that it was possible.

  “What about the baby?” I asked.

  “No.” He shook his head. “That's not possible.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “I need two things. First, your willingness to go through to the end. Second, to sacrifice your love for her.”

  Looking down at my shaking and desperate hands, I contemplated the deal. Part of me not believing the offer, but part of me wanting to believe, wishing that it was the truth. I nodded in agreement.

  He pulled out a scimitar from his leather bag and poked my cheek with it. I fell to the floor convulsing and slowly lost conscience.

  “You'll be okay.” He said as he left my apartment. “You'll wake up in a few hours not remembering any of this.”

  His deal pierces through my heart, my mind, and my soul. This was hidden so deep, that remembering it now forces tears to my eyes. My love was lost in a violent storm of regret and despair. She was taken from me, and out of my desperation and ignorance I didn't think it was possible to lose anything more, but I did. The forces of darkness ripped the memories of her from me, leaving me as an empty shell to use.

  I can feel IT getting closer. Casting a shadow on my soul, an unspeakable horror approaches and it plans to burst through this hole on my cheek.

  The older man said that I must first be willing to go through with this to the end. I still have the icepick. I can use it to end this. One quick motion to the side of my skull, into the temple. Perhaps the witch had found the icepick in my jacket, but left it there as a final option. She was unlocking my memories of Jenifer, not to remove the curse, but to let me have this choice, this horrible choice. If I end this, then Jenifer dies, but if I allow my love to be sacrificed, she lives. Should I die for her, or with her?

  If Jenifer had to make this choice, how would I feel if she rebuked my love, sacrificing it to darkness, even if it was to save me? That would be the same as dying.

  No matter my decision, death will take me. I can hear IT's dark voice calling through this hole that grows bigger, tearing away my flesh. I have only minutes to decide. Love conquers all, but can it conquer this? Forgive me for this Jenifer. I love you.

  Chapter 11

  Society of Guardians Records

  This is the written work of a man who came face to face with our enemy, sinister dark forces acting in our world desiring to enslave us all. How rare it is to have these first hand writings that describe the ordeal in such detail, which we can use to thwart this ancient darkness trying to enter our world and conquer us.

  We are unsure of the witches true motivations, whether good or evil. Any attempt at contacting them has been futile. At this point in time, they should not be trusted.

  The white bearded man was most likely an agent of the darkness, casting a hideous curse of summoning in the form of a black dot. Similar portals have been opened in history and plagues, wars, and pestilence soon followed.

  From what we gather with the writings and our inspection of the scene, he killed himself and the portal was successfully closed. Regardless of what the witches did, good or bad, this man suffered greatly, and died a hero for preventing an ancient evil from slaughtering countless others.

  Shortly after, Jenifer succumbed to her wounds, and died peacefully at the hospital. Perhaps somewhere in this vast universe, their love will find each other again and they will live in peace.

  Signed, Celitro, Officer of the Society of Guardians

 
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