The Shadowed Door

Elders in the sleepy town of Alora told a story among themselves, one about a door concealed far into the forest. They referred to it as the "Shadowed Door," a location that few had visited and none had come back.

Fearfully, the villagers whispered of it, saying it was a doorway to another realm, where secrets from the past hung in the air and shadows came to life.

Amara had grown up hearing this tale. But she was pulled to it, not the others. Her heart raced with interest at the thought of a door leading to another world; there was something about the unknown that captivated her.

So, resolved to locate the enigmatic door, she walked out toward the woodland one cold evening as the sun was starting to set.

The woodland was thick, with the tall trees obstructing the majority of the waning light. Amara tread carefully on the moss-covered ground, her footsteps being soft.

The world grew quieter the farther she traveled; it was as though the forest itself was holding its breath, anticipating her arrival.

Then she caught sight of it.

There was a door, nestled between two old oaks. She had never seen anything like it before. Made of worn wood, tall and black, it exuded a weird energy that gave it the appearance of life.

Exquisite carvings of twisting, writhing images that seemed to move if you stared at them for too long decorated the edges. The ground was covered in long shadows as a faint glimmer came from the fractures.

Amara found herself gasping for air. She asked herself, her voice scarcely audible in the dense hush, "Could this really be it?"

Her hand wavered momentarily just over the icy surface of the door.

Does she need to open it?

What if the stories were accurate?

Could it be that this was a doorway to something much more sinister than she had imagined?

But, the draw was too great. She pushed the door open slowly.

The lengthy, unsettling creak that sounded as though the door had not been opened in ages reverberated over the woodland. There was nothing beyond the doorway, only blackness.

Thick, unbroken blackness that appeared to engulf the last of the day's light. Anyway, she could hear something—a tiny whisper—calling her name from within that pitch-black nothingness.

"Amara..." The voice was soothing and quiet, yet it was also very eerie. She felt a chill go down her spine.

As she approached the door, her voice faltered and she questioned, "Who's there?"

The voice returned, but this time it was accompanied by a faint sound that was getting stronger by the second: faint footsteps.

Amara's pulse pounded. With her instincts screaming for her to run, she retreated a step.

However, the door slammed shut with an unbearable thud, trapping her in the dark just as she turned to go. Anxiety swept through her. Desperate to get in again, she pounded on the door, but it remained in place.

"Let me out!" she yelled, her voice resonating through empty space. However, there was no response; all that could be heard were those footsteps becoming closer and closer.

She was surrounded by shifting shadows that twisted and swirled like they had a life of their own. Tall, thin entities with hardly discernible forms in the low light came from the darkness.

With their faces covered, their presence was tremendous as they proceeded silently. Even though they remained silent, Amara could feel their icy, penetrating gaze on her.

Her voice shaking, she murmured, "What do you want?"

The shadows remained silent. Rather, they made slow, methodical circles around her, as to animals playing with their prey. The temperature dropped, and Amara began to breathe heavily as the truth of her predicament set in.

This door was not your typical door. Yes, there was a portal, but it wasn't to another reality. It was a doorway to the realm of shadows, the area inhabited by the abandoned and forgotten who awaited a companion.

Abruptly, the murmur reappeared, only closer this time. "Amara, stay with us... This is where you belong.

A chilly, ice fingers brushed her arm, and her eyesight went blurry for an instant.

The village, the forest, her life—everything felt so distant, as though it had never truly happened. With their voices becoming a chorus and their hands reaching out to drag her into the darkness, the shadows drew nearer and closer.

Amara withdrew with all her power, her thoughts whirling. She turned and sprinted for the door, which was now barely visible through the whirling shadows.

With all her strength, she crashed into it, and as she felt the icy hands encircling her, the door gave way.

The door slammed behind her and Amara fell out into the wilderness, gasping for oxygen. For a few period, she laid there, her thoughts spinning from what had just transpired and her heart racing. The door remained in its place, still and silent as though nothing had happened.

Amara, though, was wiser. She would never forget what she had seen beyond the shadowy door.