Midnight had fallen. The city streets were deserted. The light that was seen through the clouds was the light of the pale moon. Strange odors and far-off muttering were carried on a cold wind that blew between the broken buildings. Something unseen appeared to observe the heavy air.
Four friends—Liam, Sara, Jake, and Mia—silently crept out of their doors.
"This is crazy," Liam whispered, holding on to his jacket hard. "Why are we here?"
Sara shivered. "It's just the older part of town. Nothing will happen."
Jake nervously laughed. "Sure, nothing can hurt us. Come on. We'll just drive by and come back."
Mia looked around them, wide-eyed. Shadows moved oddly along walls. "Guys… I don't think I like this. Something feels. wrong."
They continued trudging down the streets. Every step clanged out too loudly. Every turn was darker than the last. Broken glass crunched underfoot. The air reeked of damp stone and decay.
"Did you hear that?" Sara stopped dead in her tracks.
"Hear what?" Liam attempted to be robust.
A soft whisper drifted across the air.
"Go back…"
They were frozen rigid.
"Who's there?" Liam bellowed. His voice shook.
No answer. Only the wind. It had been like a gentle sigh of breathing, but not human.
Jake tried to laugh. "It's the wind. Don't be frightened."
Mia held onto his arm. "This isn't right. Something's. wrong here."
The streetlamps flickered out and went dead. Blackness swept the road before them. Only the moon provided sparse illumination. The shadows coiled of their own motion, writhing and curling along the crumbling walls.
They saw it.
A door.
It sat by itself in the center of the road. No house. No walls. Just an ancient wooden door. Indistinguishable markings were carved into it, symbols from another time. None of them could understand them, but the symbols changed when no one was directly observing.
Sara inhaled in a whisper, trembling, "It shouldn't be here…"
Jake moved a step closer. "It's just a door. Maybe someone left it there as a prank."
But the air near the door grew cold. They exhaled in white cloud. Shadows twisted by the door, stretching like fingers toward them.
"Let's go," said Liam, his voice trembling. "Now."
They had no time to make a rush when a scream tore across the night. Sounding high and sharp and frightened. Across the city from them.
They glanced around—but Jake was gone. Just gone.
Sara screamed. Mia yanked at her hand. Liam gripped her shoulder. The street came alive, holding them down. Shadows moved purposefully, as if they didn't want to let them leave.
A voice out of the shadows spoke:
"Steve…"
The friends didn't recognize anyone named Steve. The voice was human, but it was. not human.
A chill of cold coursed down their necks. They panicked, tripping over broken rocks and rubble. Each street they took appeared to be longer than the other. The door was still far off, still, watching.
The air was heavy with smoke and decay. Faint scratching noises came from the windows of vacant buildings. There was a soft, pulsing light in one alley. It wasn't a streetlight. It moved like something alive.
Sara caught her breath. "Did you see that? Something did something!"
Liam didn't answer. His eyes were filled with horror. Mia grabbed his arm. "We need to get out of here! Now!"
They did, finally, reach the edge of the city, panting. The door still remained, as if it had been waiting all along.
Morning came.
Steve Walker woke up to the smell of breakfast. The sun streamed in the window. He yawned and stretched and rubbed his eyes. His dad sat in front of the TV with a frown on his face.
"Steve, just look at this," his dad directed, pointing to the TV.
The news showed a familiar corner of town. Some students had vanished last night—four teens. No trace. No lead. No fight.
The reporter wrote: "Police are baffled. There is no proof. People report seeing strange lights and noises around the old part of town. The investigation continues."
Steve's father shook his head. "It may be… paranormal."
Steve laughed. "Dad, come on. Ghosts don't exist. It's probably kids messing around or hiding somewhere."
His father glared but didn't say anything.
Steve attended college. Steve entered class. His friend Tom waved him over.
"Dude, did you hear?" Tom whispered. "Some students went missing last night. Midnight. In the old city. People say it's… paranormal."
Steve raised his eyes. "It's nothing, man. You still believing in ghost stories?"
Tom scowled. "I'm serious. Something is wrong there."
The teacher entered, clapping hands. "Everyone, settle down. Today we work on… mathematics."
Steve let out a sigh and turned back to his desk, dismissing the story.
In the old quarter of the city, a beggar hobbled the streets. He wore frayed clothes, his head wrapped in a hood. His hands shook as he mumbled to himself:
"The curse… it comes back. He will destroy it all… all."
The wind carried his words through the broken windows. The long shadows stretched across the crumbling buildings. The city waited.
A faint scratchy noise from a distant alleyway, and then silence.
Off in the darkness, the door waited.