The Doorway Pt II Once again he sat at his desk, with his head buried in his books and his mind completely absorbed by their content. His candle flickered as the familiar cold draught momentarily broke his concentration but he was so used to it now that he immediately resumed his work. Only tonight it was different. There was a sound too. It started so quietly it was almost indiscernible. A minute or two later he became aware of the noise. It was like a thousand people slowly breathing in and out together. He screwed up his eyes and shook his head vigorously as if the sound was something in his imagination that he could stop. But it got louder and he noticed that the cold draught was now more of a breeze that had started to lift the corners of his papers on the desk. 'That door must be open this time' he thought and turned in his seat to look. 'Humph' he said, annoyed to see that the door was indeed slightly ajar. He stood up and walked over to it. As he reached out for the doorknob an icy blast flung the door back into his face hitting him squarely between the eyes and at the same time extinguishing the candle on his desk. He fell to the floor heavily, his head spinning. In the dark he put his hand to his face and felt the warm trickle of blood from his nose. He sat up trying to get his bearings but the room was pitch black. He was confused having earlier sat admiring the big yellow harvest#moonin a cloudless sky that evening. Now there was no moonlight coming in through the window. It was so dark he couldn't see his now bloodied hand in front of his face. He was about to get up when the noise started again. He hadn't noticed the silence after the door hit him but now the eerie sound was louder and closer than before. It felt like he was surrounded by people all breathing in sync. Suddenly, to his horror he felt the fingers of a stiff hand under his leg. Then another and another. He tried to scream but another cold clawlike hand covered his mouth. He attempted to squirm out of their reach but he couldn't move his arms or legs.In a moment his body was lifted from where he had fallen by a multitude of the hands. The fingers dug into his flesh and he felt pain as well as terror. He was carried for several minutes towards a green glow. It got brighter and as he neared he was able to see his captors. They were stooped and hooded. He couldn't see their faces but he was confused to see them clutching what looked like knarled wooden sticks upon which he was being carried. They reached the source of the green glow. It was a glass orb with a large, bright candle within. They lowered him to the ground and as they pulled the sticks away he saw that on the end of each stick was a human hand, fingers bent and fixed in position like a claw. He looked around and saw them stood in ranks each with a stick and its dreadful appendage. His mind was reeling. This must be a dream. A consequence of his bump on the head. He closed his eyes again and when he reopened them he was still next to the green orb. The sound of footsteps made him look to his right. Another cloaked figure approached and this one was holding a long stick too only this stick didn't have the gruesome attachment as the others did. It had some sort of wire loop on it. Before he had time to study it further he heard more footsteps to his left and a second figure, the same as the first stood on the other side of his body. It also carried a strange looped stick. He was again aware of the breathing and then a doorway appeared through which he could see his room. He strained his eyes and he could make out his desk with the candle once more flickering. A freezing cold wind enveloped him then in the blink of an eye he felt an excruciating pain in both of his wrists and once again he saw the door move violently, only this time it slammed shut plunging him into darkness for a second time. This was a horrible nightmare. He felt those bony hands under his body again and he was lifted and carried again. Only this time it seemed to last for hours. He had no idea where he was going but he felt strangely weak and sleepy. He felt himself nodding off to sleep but fought against it. He could fight it now longer and soon fell into a deep and powerful slumber. He awoke in his armchair as the sun started to rise above the spire of the church outside his window. The rays pierced the early morning mist and their warmth on his face caused him to slowly wake up. He opened his eyes slowly then shut them again to protect against the harsh light. 'Ouch' he said. His head hurt. He remembered the door hitting him in the face but he could recall nothing after that. He sat, eyes closed, thinking that it must have been quite a blow to have knocked him out. He squinted through the sun to see the church clock. 7:30am. He had better get a move on if he was to get to his first lecture of the day on time but as he raised himself out of his chair he screamed at first with pain and then with horror as he looked down to see two stumps were his hands used to be.