Doorway in Denny's

It goes without saying that Denny’s is widely considered a family establishment. It is a place where good, wholesome families with a good, wholesome interest in old fashioned American food can gather for a nice night of dinner and pleasant memories. What with it’s penchant for paisley styled carpeting and thick batches of mashed potatoes, Denny’s does not conjure to mind anything other than warmth and comfort.

So imagine, to my surprise, when I found the Doorway to Hell in the handicapped stall of the ladies room in the Denny’s just off Route 80, somewhere in Nebraska.

I shall admit, it was quite late at night and I hadn’t managed to successfully sleep in nearly two days. Although that had everything to do with the fact that there had not yet been a car invented that allows for a good nap and nothing to do with the two cans of energy drink coursing through my veins. When I stepped into the slightly damp stall with the toilet paper roll hanging off of the wall and the support rails suggesting they couldn’t hold more than the weight of an emaciated fly, I was not quite in the right mind set.

Still, I am by no means dumb or taken by flights of fancy. For a full minute I stood, staring at the strange, swirling mass that had taken residence just above the toilet that I had full intention of relieving myself in. I rubbed my eyes vigorously, blinked numerous times, yet it remained. Very sure it was just a trick of the friendly flickering fluorescent lights, I stepped back out of the stall. I glared at the light pink counters across from me, hoping the garish duck statue next to the sink would be the only oddity that I would find in the Denny’s bathroom.

When I turned back into the stall, I was granted no such luck.

The mass had stayed, spitting sulfurous smoke at me. Inside the twisting form, brilliant flames flickered out, almost inviting me the same way the gentle yellow Denny’s sign had beckoned me from the highway. The black clouds shuddered and spread out, testing the space between us.

I chewed at my lower lip, debating my alternatives. One tiny step forward and the clouds seemed to pull into themselves. I didn’t have many options.

“Oh Hell... This is the only stall with toilet paper,” I muttered, resting a hand over my protesting bladder. “It’s either this or I piss on the side of the road.”

I kept a wary eye on the mass as I stepped forward, unzipping my pants. Reluctantly, I had to turn my back on the fixture as I sat down to empty my bladder’s contents. A great sigh escaped me. There is no true pleasure like going to the bathroom after being unable to do so for an extended period of time. Why philosopher's hadn’t picked up on that gem was completely beyond me. My eyes closed and my head dropped back as I waited to be done.

It was only a second later that I realized I’d just stuck my head into the very mass that had made me seriously consider the men’s room as a choice.

My eyes sprang open and I went very still. I shifted my gaze around, very slowly, to make sure I hadn’t disturbed anything. Nothing came out with fangs bared to rip me apart. Which was probably a good thing because it would not be a very dignified death, what with my bladder still determined to finish it’s business and being in an unknown Denny’s just after midnight. I let out a very small sigh and leaned forward to snag the last bit of flimsy paper from the roll.

I stood and zipped up my pants. Fully prepared to leave the stall, I took a step forward.

“Please tell me you’re going to flush,” a rather irritated voice behind me spoke up.

I paused, hardly daring to move.

“Oh come on,” the voice continued, a faint clicking noise echoing behind the words. “You were brave enough to go to the bathroom in front of a Gate of Hell, in the first place. You can be brave enough to look now.”

That was a fair point, I had to concede. I swallowed thickly and turned back.

The first thing I noticed were the giant set of glittering black eyes fixed on me. The orbs had to dominate more than half of the creatures face. After that I couldn’t help but notice the large, curved horns that jutted out from it’s forehead and curled down under it’s chin. Long, spindly arms were crossed over a tiny chest, with sharp, blackened claws tapping against the thin upper arms. A slender waist disappeared into the mist surrounding the creature but I was sure, if I squinted, I could make out the form of spider’s thorax making up this thing’s lower half.

I realized, as I stared, that I should just turn and run out of the stall. I was sure I could get the food to go. I’d grab my friend and we’d speed off into the night without a single look back. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The same curiosity that made sure I knew exactly what my neighbors were doing every Thursday night kept me rooted to the spot. It was a morbid, dangerous sort of interest that incited rumors and brought about wars.

There was no way in Hell--pardon the expression--that that wasn’t going to bring me an entire heap of trouble.

“What are you?” I breathed.

The oddly plump lips parted in a high laugh as the pert nose wrinkled in disdain. The teeth inside that mouth were sharp and, tucked behind them, a pair of pincers lurked just out of sight; I realized that explained the clicking noise.

“You really have to ask?” The thing asked. It tilted its head, thick curls of stark white hair tumbling to the side with the movement. There was a confusing beauty to this creature.

I shrugged, unsure what to do with myself. “Sort of. I mean, you’re definitely not human.”

“Aren’t you observant,” it said dryly. It sighed heavily and lowered it’s arms to the edge of the toilet tank. It started to heave itself forward, each spider leg stepping out of the swirling blackness one at a time.

I stumbled away, back hitting the cream colored tile wall behind me. It was a damn good thing I’d already gone to the bathroom otherwise I would be in sore need of a new pair of pants.

By the time it had pulled completely out of the dark mass, the entire stall was filled with it’s frame. The thick spider legs had to bend awkwardly, pressed up against the walls. It’s head towered above me, almost brushing the ceiling.

“I am called Spiestra,” it said.

“That... That’s a nice name,” I commented, keeping myself as close to the wall as I possibly could. “Did your parents pick it out?”

One long arm reached down to me, claw moving to rest against my cheek. “No. I picked it out. After I devoured Alexander the Great.”

I shivered, turning my head away to face the peeling paint of the stall door. “Did you... Read it in a book?”

“You ask strange questions,” Spiestra commented. I heard a small shift before the body bent down and the giant eyes could meet mine. “How odd that you would be the one to open the door.”

“Open the door?” I repeated, silently wishing I could find something better to say. “I didn’t open any door.”

“But you did,” it returned, pointing over it’s shoulder to the flickering, spinning clouds. “How else do you think that got there?”

I lifted my shoulders in a vague shrug. “Denny’s is attempting a darker, edgier look to keep up with shifting interests for America’s youths,” I rattled off.

Spiestra blinked at me, pale eyelids closing slowly as if it couldn’t quite believe what it was hearing. Then it started to laugh again, the pincers in it’s mouth clicking together with glee.

“It's been so long since I've met someone as cheeky as you.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” I said as bravely as I could.

The black eyes glittered with mirth. “You have put me in a fine mood, I shall explain.” The creature shifted to drop onto it’s behind like a spider-dog settling onto it’s haunches. It crossed it’s too-long arms over it’s too-thin chest.

“Oh please do. Clearly, I’ve got all night. I don't have food waiting for me,” I uttered, sarcastic. A bold move, I had to admit, what with my knees shaking.

“Do not push your limits, Miss Nicolette,” Spiestra chided, the pincers snapping out threateningly. “My patience has been tested for nearly a thousand years. It does not have much longer.”

I sank to the floor, never taking my eyes off of the thing. “Right, sorry. Please, explain what is happening.”

Spiestra nodded, satisfied. “Behind me is the Gate of Hell, as I mentioned,” it started. “I am Spiestra, Lady of Shadows--”

“You’re a woman?!” I spluttered before I could stop myself.

Those black eyes started to narrow. “Yes, it is what I call myself. Shall you continue to interrupt me, or shall I be having an early breakfast?”

“I, no, sorry. I’ll be quiet.”

“Good.”

Spiestra shook her head, clearly believing herself to be above all of this. In retrospect, she probably was. Although, probably not, if she had to have this conversation with an exhausted, smelly, hungry woman in a Denny’s bathroom just after midnight. Or so I kept telling myself. It helped a little to raise the spirits.

“Now then, I am the Lady of Shadows, sworn to protect one of the Gates of Hell until the day the Usurper will open it to the Human Realm.”

I pursed my lips, fighting the urge to talk. I’d been called many things in my lifetime, but Usurper had never been one of them. Somehow, it sounded so much worse than any other insult I’d ever gotten. That could probably have been accounted to the fact that a creature of Hell had said it so reverently.

When I didn’t speak up, Spiestra continued, “once the Gate is opened, I will be granted one year in the Human Realm.”

She stopped speaking and I stared.

“That’s it?”

She bowed her head.

“No demons flooding forth? The end of the world as we know it all because I had to go to the bathroom? No contract with Satan, Lucifer, the Dark Lord himself?”

She blinked slowly again. I was starting to think it was a translation error. No one could blink that slowly so many times in a conversation.

“Do you wish for a contract with Him?”

I waved my hands quickly. “No, no. Hell no. I mean... No.”

“Then why ask?”

I lowered my hands back to my lap as she continued to blink at me. “Because... This seems too simple.”

“Simple? It is no easy task to open the Gate.”

I snorted. “Could have fooled me,” I whispered, glancing around Spiestra’s thin waistline to the churning clouds behind her.

Spiestra’s face dropped back into my line of vision, her upper body twisted strangely to be at my level. “Trust me, it is not easy.”

“Okay...” I breathed out slowly, then sucked a huge breath in. “Why am I called the Usurper?”

Based on the pleased smile that pulled Spiestra’s lips up, that was the question she had been waiting for. Her pincers clicked happily and her legs shifted restlessly. Whatever came out of her mouth, it had better be good otherwise I would never be able to eat at Denny’s again. Not without a false sense of hope anyway.

“I have been bound to that Gate for a hundred years. Locked there by a contract that will not allow my release until someone can come along and break it.”

“And... That’s me?”

Spiestra nodded so eagerly it threw me for a moment. No creature with spider parts should be allowed to appear so childishly giddy.

“Yes. You usurped my contract. By Hell’s Law I am free from the Gate and can wander the Human Realm for a year.”

“Only a year?”

“That is all I asked for.”

I crossed my arms under my breasts, pressing them to my ribs. The pressure allowed me to focus on something real. Everything was too confusing and odd. Granted, it was just after midnight and strange things always happen after midnight. I eyed the thing before me, taking in the giant figure and over excited eyes.

“Why?”

Another slow blink and I was swearing to never blink again in my life. I never wanted to look that condescending, ever.

“Why..?” She repeated and, suddenly, I didn’t feel quite so stupid for saying the same thing twice.

“Why do you only want to spend a year in the Human Realm?” I asked, leaning forward and bringing our faces quite close together.

“It shall be my vacation,” she stated, simply. She could have been telling me that she watched a squirrel climb a tree with a voice like that.

I couldn’t help myself, I blinked at her. “Vacation... Wait, so I’m less a Usurper and more just a... a travel agent?”

“That is not quite accurate,” she said slowly. “There are rules to Hell you know. By my contract, I can not leave until someone allows me to. You are my relief and will protect the Gate of Hell for a year until I can return.”

I balked, scrambling to my feet with my hands moving madly. “Relief? Protect? Oh Hell, no! I mean... Whatever, there is no way in He--Earth that I would ever stand guard over a Denny’s bathroom for a full year!”

I was screeching, I knew it. But could I really be blamed? Up until twenty minutes ago, I wasn’t even fully convinced that a Hell existed and now, suddenly, I would have to protect it? Impossible. That was asking for far too much. I kicked my leg out at her and she recoiled with a hiss.

“It is the contract,” she spat, raising up again. “You opened the Gate and, now, you must protect it!”

“Fuck, no! I didn’t ask for this! I’m supposed to be driving to my parents house for a terrible, awkward Thanksgiving dinner! I’m supposed to be shoving gravy covered biscuits into my face! Will I even get those while I’m stuck doing your shitty job?” I shouted at her, not particularly caring if someone could hear me out in the restaurant.

Before I could attempt to kick her again, her limbs shout out and slammed me into the tile.

“My job is now your job,” she growled at me, pincers sliding out slick and wet as they clicked at me. “For one year, you will protect this Gate and I will enjoy my vacation. You will not rob me of this.”

I glared at her, too mad to be nervous. I had a life, plans that needed to be finished. Truthfully, I had to make plans to even put into action, but I couldn’t very well do that if I was stuck in Hell itself.

“I’ve got news for you Spiderwoman. You can't vacation in the Human Realm,” I said, triumphant.

Her grip on my shoulders slackened, pincers sliding back into her mouth. “I can not?” Her gaze sharpened and the pincers lashed out with a frightening clack. “Why can’t I?”

“You ain’t human, sweet clicks,” I informed her, gesturing to the best of my ability, what with my arms trapped in her fore legs. “You wouldn’t get more than five feet before Area 51 is bug spraying your ass into oblivion.”

Silence dropped over us as she seemed to consider that. It was more than enough time for me to think I'd won. I'd successfully gotten out of the worst job interview in history and would soon be on my way to shoving carbs into my face. But things rarely go so well in Denny's bathrooms.

To my immense surprise she started to laugh again. In the beginning I thought the sound was sweet and melodic, now it was grating and nauseating like too much birthday cake.

“I will not look like this for the next year,” she explained, bringing her unholy mouth far too close to my skin for comfort. “I will look like you.”

“Wha--?”

My question was ripped from my throat in a high scream. There are no words to describe the feeling of inch thick pincers sinking into flesh. It was as if someone had taken a giant pencil and shoved it into my jugular. Not that I can say I have personally experienced that either. Blood coated my mouth, cutting off my voice with gurgling noises. My blunt nails did nothing against her skin as I fought to get free. Just when it seemed like the pain would last until the end of the world, everything stopped.

The world filtered back into existence slowly. With my thoughts fuzzy and dazed, I tried to sit up. I found it to be a momentous task.

“You might want to take it slowly,” a voice that sounded familiar in a half forgotten way spoke up. “It’s hard learning how to use your true body.”

I looked up into my mirror image. What I assume to be my mouth dropped open in horror, at least it certainly felt like that’s what happened.

There I stood, all five and a half feet of me standing in a the cheerfully decorated Denny’s bathroom. My hair was still piled up in a messy bun and my grey shirt was still rumpled from too many hours stuck in a car. Only my smile was unfamiliar; it was twisted and soulless, like I’d forgotten how to be happy and had relearned by pinching my cheeks into the right position.

“What? It’s your fault you haven’t showered in so long,” I said, or rather, Spiestra said.

I shook myself, standing on what felt like too many legs. “Is that what I actually sound like? Man, I need to get that fixed.”

Spiestra glared at me with my own brown eyes. I’d always hated the color, but with her using them, they looked extra lifeless and dull.

“You are taking this remarkably well,” she questioned.

I shrugged shoulders that were much bigger than I was used to. “I’ve been told it’s one of my better personality traits,” I answered as I slowly started to take stock of myself. “Too weird.”

Spiestra snarled and shoved at my stomach. “Just get into the Gate so I can go.”

As if taking her words as an order, the clouds and mist behind me started to snake out. The wisps, which had seemed to insubstantial before, were curling hot and tight around my skin. I winced as I felt myself being dragged back. My hooves clattered loudly against the floor as I tried to resist. Hands that were bigger than they'd ever been curled around the support rails, urging them to hold my weight as I struggled. I'd never been one to boast about muscle mass, but now as the Gate thrashed around me, I willed every piece of me to fight back. Brand new muscles bulged and thrummed as nerves shrieked in agony. For a split second I thought I might win. I'd never experienced such strength in my arms and back, but the new body allowed me the pleasure of physical fortitude. But, it didn't do me much good. No matter how much I tried, there was no way I could stop the harsh pull of the Gate behind me.

Slowly, unwillingly, I began to allow myself to fall back. It was better than having to suffer the physical agony of resisting. I'd never been much off a fighter. I was always the kind of person to make a snide comment when the opposing party was still in earshot. I attempted to stop the Gate from sucking me in. It was just a fight I knew I was going to lose.

“Hey!” I called before the licking flames could completely consume me. “Don’t ruin my life! I’ve only got one, you know!”

Spiestra, smirking through the whole ordeal, nodded. “Oh, I know. But you aren’t in much of a position to complain, are you?”

A strange noise erupted from me. A terrible, shattering sound that threatened all kinds of pain.

“I will be in for a year,” I rumbled, great clawed hands caught on the edge of the swirling gate. “I better not be dissatisfied when I come back.”

I was only allowed a moment’s pleasure as I watched my own face contort in worry before the clouds slammed in the way.

In a year I would be able to say, with confidence, that Denny’s is still the last place on Earth that I expected the Gate of Hell to exist. The entire franchise existed on warmth and sweet memories of Grandma’s kitchen. It had to be some sort of divine fluke that something so horrid could exist in a place so family-friendly. Perhaps, that’s exactly why it was there at all. Denny’s had found a way to make Hell seem so much worse. Wholesome perfection just sitting inches away from human kind’s worst nightmare.

Of course, that could be because I spent an entire year waiting for the gravy covered biscuits that were just on the other side of the fiery door I guarded. It was pure torture.