The Sixth Door - Part One I awake from the nightmare, and all I can see is white. All I know is I am cold, scared and alone. Soon my eyes start to adjust to my surroundings. I am lying on a mattress on the floor. I can not remember how I got here, I just know I had been beaten down. The fear of what happened happening again Paralyses me. I look around. At the far end of the room are five doors, nothing to particularly to distinguish them from one another. Looking up to the ceiling, two things stand out. First, there are no lights. The room however is not in darkness. The more I think about it, the more I realise it is dark, a darkness I cant quite describe. The second thing I notice is that the room seems to be immaculately decorated, except for a small crack near the ceiling. There are four doors all in a row along one side of the room. The First Door I sit for a while, but eventually I move from the spot where I am. I pace around the room, summoning up the nerve to try one of the doors. I walk up to one and try the handle. It slowly creeps open. At first I don’t dare to walk through. But I decide the best thing to do is be confident about this. Nothing can be as bad as what I’ve come from – Whatever that was. So I stride through the door. I find myself in a long alleyway. Once I’ve walked a few steps the door closes behind me. I look forward, either side of me are two high walls. I can hear people on the other side of those walls. “Hello?” I cry, the voices hush. I shout it again. Still there is quiet, I push an ear against one of the walls, I can just about hear whispering. “What do you want?” a voice says above me. I look up, and see a boy of similar age to me peering over the wall. “Well?” I tell him my name “So?” he retorts “Did I ask for a name? – No, I asked what you wanted” “Sounds like your having fun over there – can I join you?” “If you like.” he says reluctantly – “The door is down there.” he points down the alley, “Better be quick mind, they are locking up soon.” I cannot see any door, so presume it must be beyond my vision. I run, and run for what seems like hours. I run until I am too tired to run anymore. I collapse in a heap. “Why you stopping” A voice asks. It was the same boy. I wonder to myself how he stayed with me all that time. I am exhausted, he could not have run as I did, otherwise he too would have been out of breath surely? “Where’s this bloody door then?” I ask “I told you – just a little further up.” “But I’ve been running for hours!” I cry “Can’t you just help me climb over?” The boy seems to get furious with this request, and tells me with the most venom I can imagine that he cannot. He then disappears behind the wall from where he came. I sit and catch my breath. Soon I am back on my feet, this door must exist. Part of me wishes I had never walked through that original door. Though I know what is the other side of this wall is something great – Don’t ask me how, I just do. Is it really worth this much effort? Suddenly I feel the ground beneath my feet tremble. I peer down, and sure enough there appear to be cracks emerging from the ground. I snap my head back to the forwards position. There it is. The door is only a few hundred yards away now, but I am not sure if I am going to make it. The ground beneath me is now crumbling away. It takes all my energy to keep going. As I look ahead, I realise a gigantic crater has grown between myself and the door. Which has now opened. The boy is stood there. Urging me forward, “You’re going to have to jump!” he shouts to me, over the noise of everything crumbling away. I speed up ready to launch myself across the abyss. Though I am not sure I have got enough length anymore, I Propel myself through the air with my foot on the corner of the chasm. For a few seconds I believe I might be able to make it, but I look up and see the lack of hope in the boys eyes. Despite this he stretches out his arm in the vague possibility that he might be able to catch me. Our fingertips touch, but it is too late. Gravity has won. I am falling, I spin my body around. I am able to see the boy, as he closes the door behind him. I hit the floor with a thud. When I come to, I realise I am back in the same room. I pick myself up and brush myself down. I then look around again. The crack has now gone. In it’s place is a tiny hole. I imagine if I was able to climb up I might just about be able to put my arm through it. I walk over to the door that leads to the alleyway. I turned the handle, which crumblesx off in my hand. I tried ramming the door down. However I soon realise that path is now closed to me forever. Maybe these other doors lead to the place across the wall. Who knows, it is worth a try. I move to the next door, and slowly turn the handle. The Second Door As I Enter the room on the other side. I realise two things, there is no other door in the room. The other is that there is a man sitting on a chair beside the door I just walked through. He is fast asleep. He appears to be wearing some kind of uniform, the cap that would usually adorn his head was placed on top of his face, muffling his snores. I walk past him, further into the room. There is a patch of light sprawled on the floor. I walk into it. As I do so two spot lamps burst into #life on the walls running parallel to myself. Both shining themselves onto paintings framed in ornamental frames. Both appear to be of some kind of landscape. From this distance I can tell they are of similar, if not the same garden. But they are both very different. In one it is a glorious summer day, children playing with each other. No one left out. The other one though, that is what is dragging me in. I just have to see it. The man is still asleep by the door. I approach the second painting with apprehension. It is a hideous thing, painted with dark blues, greys and blacks. It is indeed the same garden, it is even the same children playing in the same garden. At the far end is a high brick wall. A single door leads out through this wall. An Enormous tree stretches its branches out, over the wall itself. Casting it’s shadow over almost all the garden. It is obviously a winter scene, for the branches wear no leaves. As I gaze upon this hideous piece of art I observe that all the children are just standing there, none of them are looking at each other, it strikes me that it is almost as if they are avoiding each other. Very different to the picture on the other wall. Even from a distance I can tell how wondrous that garden was, even now I can almost imagine I am hearing the laughter from joyful lips. However my attention is still captivated by the one in front of me. There is one boy that takes my attention hostage. He is stood at the foot of the tree, miles away from everybody else. It seems as if he is not only staring straight out of the picture. But staring right into me. His eyes appear to shoot out like lasers. I try and look away from him but his power is too strong and my gaze returns. I almost stagger back, for the boy has moved. He is now standing in the centre of the garden, a boney little finger pointed in my direction. I suddenly realise the finger appears to be coming out of the picture. Followed by the hand. the pointed finger turns into and outstretched arm, followed by the boys head. Eyes piercing straight into my soul. Soon his whole body is out of the painting. He is the colour of the paining, Grey and blue. He stares at me intently, as if I were prey. His bare feet take a step towards me. I take a step backwards. We repeat this pattern a number of times. I find myself back in the light in the centre of the room, the boy is hunched over just in the shadow. He flashes a smile at me, his teeth I notice are rotting almost completely away. I take a quick glance back at the painting where he had come from. I notice that all the children have now got all their eyes fixed on the room, each face as grotesque as the next. I then realise I’ve lost track of the boy. I whip myself around just as the boy launches himself at me. I make a protective barrier with my arms, but the attack never comes. I quickly open my eyes. Before me stands another boy, this one is every shade of gold. He has the other boy by the neck. The first boys claws are scratching at the newcomer, whose back is facing me. He slowly walks, carrying the first boy by the neck, towards the main picture. When they are some distance off I hear the golden boy whisper something to the scrawny devil, who in return hisses something back then spits in his face. The golden boy just stares back at him unflinching and repeats his original statement pointing to the painting. The Creature, who would have surely attacked me takes one last look at me, hisses, and then slinks back into the picture. A snort comes from the man sat by the door. The golden boy and I stand in silence for a minute or two, then he starts walking towards me. I think he is coming to talk to me. I realise that he looks identical to the boy who tried helping me in the alley. Except that boy was not glittering like this one. His eyes are purest white. There is just an air of calm about him. He walks past me. So I grab his arm, I need to speak with him. As my fingers curl around his elbow, a fiery shot of heat surges up my own arm. So intense all I can do is let go. He obviously understands what I want, as he turns to face me. “I cannot really talk now.” He whispers, peering over at the sleeping man “You’ll meet that boy again.” he warns. His voice seems to wash over me, calming me down even though what he says is not what I want to hear “When?” “I cannot say. When the time is ready – when you are ready.” “What does that mean?” “I have told you too much already.” He glances at the snoozing figure by the door then turns and walks towards his painting. I follow him. He reaches it and stands there for a while, takes one last look at me, and says “It’s not time yet – Indeed, It may look very different by the time you can get through. But it’ll be right.” He sighs, then walks into the painting. A cold breeze washes over me. The man by the door awakes with a start. Without looking at me he says; “Sorry laddie, time I was shutting up shop.” I then find myself back in the original room. I look for that hole that was in the wall when I was last in this room. It is no longer there. In it’s place is a small window, to high for me to properly look through, but I can see a blue cloudless sky from the other side, a shower of sunlight streams through it. I realise I cannot stay here for long. It is time for me to walk through the third door. The Third Door Behind this door is a gargantuan banquet hall. Thousands of people are seated at the stretched out tables, each of them with a plate piled up with food. At the far end of the room a large orchestra is sat, sweet classical music emanated around the room. A ripple of chatter follows in its wake. At first this all seems normal. But I soon realise something is not right. No one is moving, neither the feasters or the members of the orchestra. I walk around a while. I am struck with how many people are guests of this meal, for I seem to walk forever, but never reach the walls of the hall. I peer down an aisle between two tables. A third of the way down I notice an empty chair. The first empty chair I had seen in this room. I walk down. Suddenly realising how weary I have become so I decide to sit myself in the empty chair. To my right is a prim lady, dressed in a early twentieth century evening dress, rows upon rows of pearls adorned her neck, as well as strewn amongst her hair. To my left was an elderly man dressed in tails, a grey handlebar moustache sprouted from upper-lip. he holds a full glass of wine in his hand, poised just before his lips. Gazing around, everybody seems to be dressed as if from Edwardian times. All of a sudden I realise I am not the only person moving, about five tables away the boy and and the old man from the room with the paintings are sat, talking to one another. the boy catches me staring at them, and raises his glass in toast to me. I get out of my seat to walk to walk over to them, but as soon as I look back, they disappear. So I sit back down again I start to eat the food. For a while the food takes my whole attention. But then is suddenly dawns on me that there is a bee hovering by a vase of flowers in front of me. I stare at it, all the while eating. I realise I can see the smallest vibrations of it’s wings moving. If I look carefully enough I can see it actually moving through the air, getting faster and faster. I am still eating. Beyond the bee I notice the ladies fork, it too has started to move. And sure enough everybody around me starts moving, slowly catching up with the noise that has continually filled the room. Soon enough everything is as it seemingly should be. I join in the conversation around me. It turns out that the folks that I am dining with are very nice people, and I soon forget that a while ago everybody was statuesque. I plunge my fork down for my next bite. But instead of a scrumptious piece of meat of veg the fork brings up a piece of paper. On it I notice there is something scribbled. This is all an illusion. No one here is actually moving. The more you eat the further you fall into the illusion. Stop eating, otherwise you’ll die. There is more planned for you ahead. You must fight this! Fight it with everything you’ve got. It may seem more comfortable to stay and eat, but it will destroy you! This is the last time I’m allowed to help you. I look around to see if I can see the person who’d left the note. Though I am pretty sure I know already. The word it was signed off by gives that away This is the last time I’m allowed to help you that suggested it is someone who’d helped me in the past. And there’s is only one person who fits that description. The Boy. I get up from the table. But the man with the handlebar moustache grabs my arm “Where are you going my boy? Pudding is about to start!” “oh yes!” cried the woman with the pearls. “how delightful! Always my favourite part of the day! Oh you really must stay!” “I’m really sorry.” I apologise. Very conscious that the man still has my arm in a vice like grip. “But I realise I must be going!” “But nobody leaves before pudding!” the man exclaims “No, not before pudding!” the lady echoes. Which is then echoed by everybody else feasting away. Slowly rippling away. “Unless…” the man says thoughtfully. “unless?” ” unless, they want to become the next course!” he cackles. Suddenly they all lurch towards me. I somehow manage to wriggle from the grip of the man. And run straight for the door. Though all the guests are chasing after me. All now have fangs sprouting out of their mouths. Their eyes blazing with fire. Some pounce at Me, but collide mid air, I am able to swoop under another couple lunging at me. I am soon at the door, not before one has managed to scrape my arm. I place my hand on the doorknob. Suddenly everything goes quiet. I turn. Not letting my hand let go of the door. They are all still there. But the are statues once more. I open the door and leave the banquet. The Fourth Door Once on the other side of the fourth door I find myself in a forest. Trees stretch for miles around me. A path winds it’s way for what seems miles ahead. Birds are singing in the trees and the sun is shining. I think to myself that at last I have found somewhere nice, maybe even this path may lead to that garden I saw in the picture. So I start to walk. It seems like I am walking forever, it is so delightful I start singing to myself. My heart sings with me. All of a sudden I hear a soft voice calling my name. Calling me forward. I quicken my step. The voice keeps calling me, repeating my name over and over again, but I am yet to find who it is that is calling me. Over time I begin to realise that the voice has gradually gotten harder and harder, and what wad once a kind and caring voice has now become harsh and spiteful. It dawns on me that along with this the wood has been pitched into darkness. I can just see the path ahead of me. I carry on walking, though I do not know what will be around the corner I do know that I cannot torn back, my future lies in a forward momentum. Suddenly before me a see a silhouette of what seems to be a rock. But as I move closer I realise it is in fact a corpse of a dying animal. I can begin to hear it’s ever decreasing breathes. I slow my pace, a sense of foreboding waves over me. Though I know whatever the creature is will not – or at least can not – harm me, whatever did this to it can, and all my senses told me that that creature wad near by. I’m close enough to the creature now to see the glimmer in it’s fading eye. Fear consumed the look in that eye. It twitched as if that fear was about to be realised, and sure enough just as the creature twitched, a boy jumped out of the woods onto the path in-front of me. Hunched over on all fours he faced the dying creature, ignoring me completely. He was dressed in ripped jeans but very little else, his skin was a dark grey and hair black. It looked like he hadn’t eaten for days. He crawled closer to the creature, who tried in vein to move. I could not tell what this boy was going to do, but my ignorance was soon quashed. For the boy bent down and ripped into the creatures neck with his bare teeth. He chewed on the lump of flesh of a moment, then slowly turned towards me. A smile sliced it’s way across his face as he saw me stood there. “We meet again!” he said in a cold hushed tone. It then suddenly dawned on me who this was. This was the boy from the painting. Not the golden boy, but the one who had tried to kill me. “No one to save you from me now is there?? All alone, no one really cared for you did they?? Where’s golden boy for yiu now, that pathetic waste of air. Why he was ever chosen!!” the boy seemed to get distracted for a moment. I knew I needed to get past him. So as he was distracting himself, I slid myself into the shadows. Very carefully s edged myself around him, around the corpse – his dinner. Just as I got the other side and the path was open for me once more the boy came around, realising I had moved he whips around. “Thought you’d get away from me huh?” A drop of the creatures blood dripped from his lower lip, he raised a hand to his mouth and wiped the residual away. He then looked up at me and whispered; “Run!!!!” I don’t hesitate in doing as he says. Soon enough however he starts a pursuit. “I’m coming to get ya” he shouts out. I keep running, but soon he’s at my heals. Snapping at them like a wild dog. “I’m going to kill ya!” he cries. I quicken my pace. It seems like we are in this chase for hours. Sooner or later I look back and realise he is no longer there. I lessen my pace until I’m stood still, I hunch over. My lungs feel like they’re about to explode. The boys voice is still echoing in my head. Why is he so hateful against me, there was no kindness in his eyes at all, how can that be?? I look around me. I notice a fair way off a figure stood, for a moment I think it must be the boy back for seconds, but then I realise that this figure is infect golden. It’s the other boy!!! I quickly run to him, but in fact I am once more mistaken, it is not the golden boy, but neither is it the boy who is out to kill me. In-fact it is more than one person. There are six figures in all. All. Are golden like the boy. But they all appear to be incased in a giant glass box, seemingly unable to move. I feel an urge to rescue them, that that is the true reason They are here. I look around for something that will break the glass prison. A few yards away is a large enough tree branch. I pick it up and swing it at the glass, which shatters into a million pieces. The six people inside the box fall to the ground. After a number of r minutes they are all composed and thanking me for their rescue. None could quite remember how they got there. One of them, who was older than the rest started a fire, while another went and fetched some food. We sat around for ages talking about whatever came to peoples mind. It dawned on me how beautiful they all looked with the fire light reflecting off their golden skin. One in particular caught my eye, a young girl a little bit younger than I. But before I could think anything much more about that a sniggering grew out of the woods, and the grey-skinned boy slinked from within the shadows. “hmm, isn’t this nice.” he said, as he started circling the group. ” you’ve found some friends. – some golden ones for that matter!” he said chuckling. We all stood up, we were all in this now. The boy was circling us like a vulture. I looked over at the girl, who was looking scared. Before I knew what was happening we were all running, with the boy in pursuit once again. This time however the pathway became rockier. There were more hurdles to face. Somehow the seven of us managed to keep the same pace. But the the ground beneath our feet began to tremble. Cracks started appearing beneath our feet. I looked behind us, and I realised the cracks were starting from behind the boy. He was struggling to keep steady. He took a leap, but it was a wrong footed move for a crack had just appeared beneath him. And he headed straight for it, within seconds he was gone. It was the that I realised what I had failed to do – which was look where I was heading. I too was heading for a crack. I skidded to a halt, but my right foot went over the crack had I tumbled down. I thought I was falling again, but I felt a hand grasp my wrist. Looking up I saw the girl smiling down at me, “Dont Worry.” she said ” I got you.” It started raining. Soon enough the other five were stood there, but none gave the girl a helping hand. Looking at them I realised all but the girl had become tarnished, and were getting more so as the rain washed over them. One bent down, a woman, she smiled down at me, she placed a hand over the girls had which was holding on to me. Then the girl started shaking, and her skin got dimmer and dimmer, and soon her skin had turned grey like the boys, but yet unlike the boys I knew she could turn back. I felt her grasp turn from warm to cold, the other four were holding her now. She started shaking like she was having a seizure. Her grip loosened around my wrist. And I started to fall. Before I disappeared I saw the girl, being pulled away by the other five.