The Guardian of the Attic

There was only one rule: do not open the door. That was a simple, unspoken pact between brothers, forged in the fire of childhood horrors and fevered whispers. Over that divide, the attic creaked on its punky floorboards under a canopy of dust-speckled drapes.

In so many ways, the attic was a place of shadows and secrets, a kingdom in which their imaginations could soar unshackled. It was that orchard of forbidden fruit, the elusive realm unto itself. Though their parents continually warned them to keep their feet away, the unknown held a lure that none could resist.

It was a rainy night, with a fierce gust of wind lashing outside, tapping insistently against windows. Shivers ran down their spines. Rain pounded onto the roof creating an orchestration of fear. Huddled together in the living room, the siblings exchanged worried glances toward the attic door, their hearts pounding fiercely within their chests.

Curiosity was that impious little spirit which whispers into the ear, "What's in the corner?

It was frightening and exhilarating-a heady mix of fear and excitement. The elder brother, timid yet bold, stretched out his hand for the door handle. A cold gust of wind blew in from the crack and enveloped them in eerie silence.

Trembling hands fiddled at the handle. Outside, darkness yawned, and in that immense, hollow space, a red eye glowed dully, its fixed stare watching for years. Down the stairs came a low guttural growl, chilling shivers curling down their spines.

Terror gripped them as they closed the door. That eye disappeared into the darkness. They stood against the door; in their chests, hearts pounded with great force. Outside, the gust of wind howled with immeasurable power, shaking the house as though it were a thing having its own beating heart.

A way of hiding together and, amidst that fear, blossomed a union. And then was when they knew they disturbed something untouched, something that they never should have opened ever again. And, as the storm went away outside, they took an oath never to open that door again. The childhood covenant became stronger with this experience.

Months passed, and the memory of the attic slowly started to fade. The brothers tried very hard to forget what had happened, but fear remained as a reminder of what lay hidden behind the forbidden door.

One night, there was a strange noise all over the house. It was a growl, low and guttural, the exact noise they had listened to before in the attic. And once again, fear gripped them, holding each other tight as wildly racing hearts thudded within their chests.

The noises grew louder, but this time they sounded as if coming from the attic. The two siblings looked at each other nervously, their bright shining eyes wide open, knowing all about what lay before them.

Trembling fingers pushed open the attic door. For a moment, they hesitated, their fear fighting the instinctive urge to know. But in their souls, they knew that overcoming that fear was what was necessary to face the darkness that had been looming above them for too long.

They stepped into the musty darkness. The attic lay spread out before them, moonlit, casting an uncanny glow over everything: shadows danced and writhed across the floor. Ghostly fingers clung to the ceiling, like cobwebs. The air was heavy with drifting motes of dust. A weighty smell of decay mingled with the dustiness of old books, and even this enfeebled all.

He loomed behind in the heart of the attic huge and shadowy, a creature full of darkness that swelled in outline like smoke ebbed away as he moved. His eyes two red orbs aglow probed deep into their souls. His movements were at once elegant and fearful, quite reminiscent of a predator stalking its prey.

And out of the dark came something bursting, its shape though it filled with fear curiously compelling; it rippled and flowed, like it were, indeed, just shadow-only shadow. It seemed alive as if it were darkness itself.

Its eyes were like two red embers in darkness. They glinted there, piercing into their very souls. Cold and calculating with something sinister intelligence, they felt watched over by some being from another world. Alien to their understanding.

The creature moved through the crowd as elastically and menacingly as a reptile, slithering through in complete silence, as if it were biting its tail, carrying that elusive intent amidst an uncountable horde of people.

Shadows coalesced into darker, menacing forms, the very air thickening so it seemed unfathomable not to be somehow tied up in the creature's presence. She seemed to snare in siblings in this embracing sort of doom as if the very idea of them was destined to be engulfed by the dark waves invading them.

Yet they were again drenched with fear as they stood up. However, with the bravery in their hearts, they went forward, face to face with the beast. The animal growled low menacingly as it lurched forward towards them.

As though she had just barely restrained its fury, the room had gone ablaze at intervals. And then suddenly it was gone, and the oppressive darkness was warm and comforting. Out of this splendour of light, there projected a figure: a tall, impressive man, his face shot through with kindness, his beard long and flowing. His eyes seemed to probe to the very soul within each of them.

He had on a vastly flowing white robe, everything embroidered with all sorts of intricate symbols and patterns. Silvery running down his back, with his beard well-kept. In this mad chaos, he seemed to be the epitome of serenity and peace.

"You have stared your fear in the face," the man said, steady and soothing. "You have been both bold and timid. The darkness is receding."

The siblings exchanged glances, their initial fear melting away, replaced by this sense of relief and triumph. From that day forward, they knew they had really overcome their fears to convert the attic from a scary place into their new area of courage.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice quivering by degrees alone.

This man smiled. "I am the Guardian of the Attic," he said. "I have protected this space for centuries, defending it from anyone who would try to do it harm." Brothers stood there in the darkness, unused to the notion of an Attic Guardian. The man continues speaking, his deep voice full of a sort of wisdom almost eternal. "What you faced was a creature, a shadowy figure-evil spirit from times long past. It fed off the fear and darkness that you called forth to this world of ours. You have proven that where the boiling point of fear is reached, so can courage." And for one flashing moment, he looked up at eyes that were filled with a beyond-deep, peaceful quality"

The attic is a world of power," he said. "It's like a nexus between the past and the future, but it's pretty treacherous; one can fall easily, and if one isn't mindful, the shadows could come back to life."

His sisters listened to him, their hearts filled with that strange mixture of fear and wonder. How do we keep ourselves safe? asked the little sister.

The man smiled. "The best way to keep yourselves safe," he said, "is to remember what you have learned, hold close the power of courage, cherish the importance of unity, and remain wary of the dangers that fear presents. And always be watchful of those shadows that linger in the darkness." And by the time darkness again set over the attic, nothing was frightening then. For they felt that somehow a protector was watching out for them—a guardian of the attic, a beacon of hope in the shadows of which the attic could no longer be considered a forbidden land. They would often visit the place, roam around, find dusty corners, and thereby discover the secrets hidden within. Although carved out in their brains as that dreaded night, it has now turned out to be something they do not fear anymore. Thus would it have stood as full testimony to their valour and bravery; and, indeed, might right well be said that it was an omen of hope- brilliant and shining in the darkest recesses of the earth. The attic ceased being a refuge from reality the next morning. Besides this, it was again one of their dear retreats as they fished about in the dusty nooks for the hidden drawers of its secret cupboards. That dreadful night would be forever etched in their memories; however, it would not fill them with fear, but rather with recalling the indomitable strength that every human spirit possessed.