Watchers of the Door

Present Day:

Matt Krager slammed on the breaks, a wall of dust billowing around his new Chevy truck. Hopping out of the vehicle, shined boots hitting the dry hard ground. His lips curled in disgust as he surveyed the work site. No engines noises, no workers milling around, machinery lay abandoned. The field was empty. “Where the fuck is everyone” He snarled to himself.

Another stoppage costing him money. At this rate, his housing development wouldn’t be ready on time, costing him even more money. Gazing into the horizon he watched his foreman emerging out of the forest, a forest that should have been cut down already. Pausing, he began crossing the now broken field, for a heavy-set man he deftly avoided the fallen trees that lay scattered about.

Matt held his hand over his eyes, squinting against the glare. The air was dry, this field was hotter than any where else in the county, he was sure of it.

“Greg, What the hell is going on?” He yelled

Greg removed his stained ball cap revealing a shiny bald head that glistened in the morning sun. Shaking his head, he wiped his brow with his forearm. “ Hey boss, I think you better see this for your self.” And with out another word proceeded to walk back from where he came.

Matt followed, hesitantly. He liked developing neighborhoods, he hated getting dirty. That’s what laborers are for. As they crested the hill he looked down into a wooded valley, a small creek flowing alongside what appeared to be a building.

“What is that?” Matt inquired

“That is the reason we stopped; the building below is an old barn.”

“So, tear it down, along with the trees. Jesus Greg, you called me out here for this.”

“Well, it ain’t that simple, there’s an issue here.” Greg mumbled.

“The town council said there wasn’t anything out here, the plans don’t show a building.” Fumed Matt.

In answer, Greg proceeded to the structure below. After a short time, they walked past a large burned-out tree and a collapsed brick building, partially hidden in the wild growth. They stood in front of the sizable barn. The once red color now faded into a dull grey, the wood weathered, and it appeared that it had caught fire at one time. Otherwise, the old barn stood proud, and still looked solid.

Matt stood there looking confused, was about to say something when Greg gestured for him to open the door.

Gripping the wrought iron handle Matt Yanked back. The door flew open as if it had just been oiled. A waft of stale air greeted them.

Looking to Greg, Matt said, “ Well, show me.”

The big man took a step back, his face paled. Shaking his head, he replied,

“ I’m not going back in.”

Matt gave him a questioning look but proceeded forward. Stepping inside, he paused, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside. Matt was surprised at what he saw. Coble stones lay as the flooring, the walls were lined with etchings and large beams were carved with strange writings or glyphs. There were no stalls, no dirt or forgotten hay. Little mounds of rags lay everywhere. It looked more like a mausoleum than a barn. The strangest part was a large irregular rock that stood in the center, an archway carved into it with a solid Oak door attached. Another pile of rags lay at the foot of the door.

Adjusting to the dimness within the interior, his heart began to pound, instantly sweat poured off him. He couldn't breathe. The mounds of rags were bodies, heaped on the floor, every where he turned, he saw dried husks of humans, they appeared to have crumpled where they were. From the sizes of them he knew that many of them were children.

Matt raced out the door, pushing past Greg, falling to his knees he puked up his breakfast.

All he could think to himself was ‘What the hell happened here, a cult murder?’ Before he could ask, He heard Greg behind him, vomiting.

150 years ago:

Lightning ripped through the night, blasting into the 98-year-old Oak, setting it aflame. The tree stood as sentinel in front of a large brick and stone building since its inception.

Lighting up the sign that was etched over the grand entrance:

Bella's Orphanage for Girls

The heavy rain could not douse the flames that engulfed the tree, planted the same day the orphanage opened.

The oak welcomed the children, the lost, the forgotten and the unwanted, now it burned. Living shadows from the flames danced against the walls of the orphanage behind it.

There would be no extinguishing the blaze, by the time the fire fighters hitched up the horses to draw the wagon and ride out, it would be too late. Besides, they were too far out in the country for anyone to see the blaze. The Sisters picked this spot for that very reason.

As fierce as the flames were from the dying oak, they could not compare with the green flames that grew inside the orphanage itself, the windows cast an eerie glow from within, as if the flames fought to burst out of the very walls. The ancient stone and bricks buckled, the windows warped and the wind from the heat caused mini tornados bursting into life. Suddenly the wind stopped, the air grew calm and silent.

And that’s when the screams from within the barn began.

Had anyone been around as a witness they would have collapsed from the sound; it would have felt as if their very soul fled from their body.

Without warning a burst of blue light radiated from inside the barn, engulfing the building along with the entire grounds outside and with that, the green flames imploded from within, the light vanished into the night.

Inside the Lady leans heavily against a door, her bloodied hand clutching a skeleton key made of bronze and laced with silver. She falls with her back against the solid Oak Door, exhausted, and looks around the large room. Blood dripping into her eyes casting a hazy look to everything around her.

Children of all ages, some as young as five, all lay motionless, most, if not all dead. Fallen everywhere in crumpled heaps; like forgotten rag dolls. So much damage, so much sacrifice. Without it, no one outside of this barn would be alive for long, a year at the most.

Elsa reached up and touched the door, her fingers gently tracing the engraving on the wood, she felt no heat, no vibration, no evil. She did feel the life pulse of the door, getting stronger. Good.

Knowing it was over, she shivered at the loss.

The covenant was broken, her fellow Sisters lay next to her. Most were unrecognizable, their clothing rent from their bodies, flesh torn off their bones.

They guarded this portal from hell for one hundred years, and now there was no-one left to carry on. The Watchers all dead, she was now the last. It took all they had to fight the demons this time. They used an old magic from a time now forgotten. Receiving their energy from the innocent, hence the orphanage. Normally they could channel their magic without ever harming a child. It was a perfect cover, an orphanage that was self sustaining, few, if any ventured out here, there was no need. The town folk didn’t need more mouths to feed or take care of. Let someone else do it, out of sight out of mind. The Sisters built the barn around the portal, what better way to hide it from prying eyes.

The young that lay around her, knew what they were doing, they were being trained as the next Watchers. Now they too were gone, destroyed in one awful night.

It would be many years before the demons could try again, the spell sealing the door would hold, not forever but hopefully long enough for a new chapter of Watchers to arrive or be created. For thousands of years her covenant protected the world. Finding and sealing the portals. Ever watchful, always vigil.

Elsa coughed, a red mist sprayed the air. Closing her eyes her mind wandered to earlier that night. They were in the orphanage, the older children helping put the young ones to sleep, tucking them in. When the crack of lightning striking the great tree out front sent shock waves throughout the building.

The tree, their guardian, who’s powers were the seal for the gateway, was on fire, torn in half. Nola stayed behind, protecting the children who did not have the gift. Elsa and the rest of the Sisters flew out the door and headed to the barn. The young trainees followed.

But with the tree burning, their power was diminishing, it was from the great oak that all their power, fueled by innocence, was stored. They entered in time to see the stone in the center glow, the door bend. With barley enough time to prepare, the gateway opened, demons of all shapes poured forth. Blue and green fire flew from the Sisters hands, blasting the evil forms. The doorway was small, they could only come through a few at a time. One demon escaped the blasts of magical flames and flew outside, heading for the orphanage. Sister Nara gave chase.

“Lock the barn door.” Cried Elsa

Two older teens slid the barn door shut, turned around preparing to guard the exit with their lives. Which, unfortunately they did.

The children fought bravely, no fear, their powers not fully matured, but powerful enough to assist. The Demons were trapped in the barn, the walls charmed, they could not break through, the barn door was the only way out. Digging their claws into flesh, tossing the smaller children aside like tuffs of grass, they charged forward. Sister Alda fought her way to the door and began summoning it to close. From outside they heard screams and the sound of the orphanage collapsing. Anger fueled their actions; they renewed their efforts. The children that were still alive focused sharing their energy with the Sisters who still fought. They gave themselves freely to the cause.

Alda, leaned heavily on the door, closing it one inch at a time, suddenly a scaly arm shot out from the narrow opening and ripped her throat. Elsa ran forward charging, leaping over the dying body of her friend she shouldered the door shut. The wood of the door bonded with the stone . Elsa reached for the key that hung around her neck. Jammed it into the lock and cried out the words that would seal it once more.

Then she collapsed. With what little strength remained, she summoned a spell to hide the barn from view. It would not last forever. A lone tear fell onto her cheek as she saw the cost. Elsa waited alone, for the end.

Present Day:

It’s been three months since the grisly discovery, the inspections completed, no solid answer was given. Most assumed the people died from smoke inhalation when the barn caught on fire. That is what appeared to have happened.

Matt, sat on the tail gate of his truck, looking down below at the freshly cleared land. All that remained was that large rock with the strange door. They tried blasting it, but it refused to be destroyed.

One week ago, a person who investigated the gruesome and mysterious deaths brought Matt an item. He said it he found it on one of the bodies. A key, with strange script etched on it. Matt decided to see if it would open the door. He gave it to the new foreman. From a safe distance, Matt peered through binoculars as three men approached the door in the rock. He watched as the foreman inserted the key. A bright light burst forth, blinding his vision.

And then the screams began.

I would like to thank you for taking the time to read my story. If you enjoyed it, please leave a heart, and help yourself to view my other writings. Should you decided to leave a tip, it is not expected, but always appreciated.

Jason,

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-Cost of Freedom - Little Shadow

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