The Terror of the Door

It was a mundane morning. I headed down into the basement to do the laundry when I felt an icy, chilling breeze tickle my neck. I glanced around, all the windows were closed, yet I still felt the breeze.

It was coming from a corner of the basement. I put down the laundry basket and trudged over to where I thought the breeze was coming from. I pushed through some old junk and found myself staring at a rotting dilapidated wooden door.

Strange and unintelligible whispers were emanating from the other side of the door. As I inspected the door closely, I saw inscriptions on the frame. They were written in a script that I had never seen before and I figured they must be from some ancient language. My curiosity piqued, I tried to push open the door, but as soon as I touched the rusty doorknob, my vision turned black and white and I was transported… somewhere.  

It was a graveyard, with grey and drab tombstones arranged in neat lines. At the end of the graveyard, there were steps leading up to an elevated platform. On this platform, there was a large grave. This tombstone seemed more elaborately decorated and appeared to be more important.

I could still feel the handle of the door and so I knew that this was all probably some sort of a vision. Then, the grave suddenly burst open and out sprang a horrific being. Its body was a shadow and it had glowing red eyes and large hands with long bony fingers. It had no legs and floated a foot above the ground.

I tried to pull my hand off the handle, but I couldn’t move. I attempted to scream, but my throat was constricted. Meanwhile, that inhuman creature slowly drifted towards me, its blood-red mouth curved in a malicious and sadistic smile. As it drew closer, it reached out towards me with its knobbly hand. “Finally, the Necromancer will be whole again!” It said in a raspy voice. The black shadow obscured my vision and I saw no more.

I woke up on my bed and saw the concerned faces of my doctor and my neighbour, Mr. Caleb. I sat up and asked, “How long have I been out?” “At least twelve hours,” Mr. Caleb said. “Twelve hours!” I exclaimed incredulously. “Yes. Mr. Caleb got worried that you hadn’t gone out on your routine jog. He tried calling you but there was no answer. He came here and rang the doorbell but no response. He let himself in and found you lying there. He called me soon after.” “What about the door?” I asked. “What door?” The doctor asked, looking quizzical. “Nothing,” I said, dropping the subject.

It was possible that I had hit my head on something and passed out and the incident in the graveyard had just been a dream… But it had felt so real! I headed down to the basement to check if the door was still there, but it had disappeared.

They left once they saw that I was fine. The rest of the day passed without incident. As the night approached, I felt a strange sense of anticipation building up inside of me. Before I went to bed, I tucked a kitchen knife under my pillow. Having something to defend myself made me feel safer. I soon fell asleep, but not before muttering a quick prayer to ward off evil…

I was jerked awake by a feeling of intense cold. I felt that same breeze again, and it sent chills up my spine, quite literally. The whispers were there too. I glanced at my clock- it was 3:00 A.M, also known as the Devil’s hour.

I clutched the knife with trembling fingers and walked towards the door, fully aware that those could be my last steps. To my horror, I found that the door had transformed into the same rotting door. Even the bathroom door had changed. The door to a connecting room had transformed too.

I crept back to my bed and hid under my sheets, feeling like a frightened toddler again. Then I heard the creaking noise of a door opening. I couldn’t breathe and I felt warm tears running down my cheeks. I saw the bony fingers curl around the sheet and slowly pull it back. As soon as I saw its face, I threw the knife at it, but it went straight through. It hit the ceiling and clattered to the floor. Meanwhile, I made a beeline for the door. I reached it and opened it, but saw it was a passage to the graveyard. I backpedaled, till I felt the transformed bathroom door behind me.

The Necromancer knelt and picked up the knife. With a sneer, it threw the knife at me. I ducked and the knife pierced the door. I noticed a hole appeared in his shadowy form. That was it! That was its weakness! I took any heavy object available and started smashing the doors. They broke easily as they were old and rotten.

Its body degenerated completely once all the doors were destroyed. I had done it; I had won! I walked over to my bed and collapsed on it. I slept more soundly than I ever had before that night. The terror of the door was over.