It is time for another piece from our Invite to Write Challenge! We asked our writers to craft a story, telling us about their fantasy world. Stay tuned throughout the fall to continue reading the amazing work. The one below is by J.L. Gang!
Mind The Gap
My grandmother always warned about the dangers of standing inside doorways. “Doorways aren’t just an entry into another room,” she’d warn. “They can lead to dangerous worlds of beasts and terror.”
When I was younger, her stories would fascinate and capture my attention better than anything else. But with age, the tales of warnings and fantastical creatures became less alluring, as life has the ability to strip childlike innocence. I’d give anything to have heeded those warnings, but I should start at the beginning.
I hadn’t set foot in my grandmother’s house since before I went away to college, some six years at least. It wasn’t joyous times that brought me back; it was her sudden death that forced my presence. Needing a reprieve from my grief-stricken family, I retreated into her room, hoping
to fill myself with pleasant memories. Sitting at the foot of the bed, I scanned the room filled with pictures from her extravagant life. A single picture of her as a child drew my attention. Walking over, I lifted the frame from the hutch, mesmerized by the brilliance of her eyes.
Continuing to stare into her piercing grey eyes, I carelessly leaned against the bedroom doorframe. Without warning or any way to stop, a nauseous feeling washed over as darkness covered my vision. The nauseousness only heightened as the weightless feeling of falling encompassed my body. Gripping the picture frame tightly, I heard the sharp sound of the glass snapping in my hand. Before I could react, nothingness soon took hold.
Shocked awake, I sat up to the unnerving sight of a mist laden forest. The air, dense with moisture, clung to my clothes, sticking them to my body. Slowly standing, I tried to gain my bearings as my brain fought against what was happening. Through a mix of confusion and panic,
the sound of leaves crumpling shifted my attention. Standing silent as a grave, I tried to pierce the mist as I squinted in vain.
“Between the adzed planks, you stood,” hissed a fiendish voice from beyond.
With fear clawing into my very bones, I couldn’t help but cower as I attempted to make myself smaller. Darting my eyes back and forth as I tried to search for this devilish whisper, I spun around as I heard twigs snap.
“My dominion you slipped,” the cold moist breath fell on the back of my neck.
Without thought, I sprinted into the depth of the mist before me, only wanting to put distance between whatever haunted me. Jumping back and forth to avoid the trees as they suddenly appeared through the haze, the unnerving feeling of pursuit pushed me to the breaking point. At the speed I was moving, I failed to swerve in time and crashed into a materializing sapling. My body twisting to the side, hit the ground with a loud thump and a roll, before finally finding rest in front of where I now dwell, inside the hollow of an enormous tree.
Whatever lurks in the mist is still hunting for me, my only sign is a crunch of leaves or snap of limbs. The only solace I can find is in this warning I now write on the back of the photo that brought me here. That some fantastical stories should not be dismissed but heeded as a dire
warning. My last hope to pass this note into the beyond is to use the thin edge of this hollow as a doorway and the final line from my grandmother’s tale.
“Feelings imprinted can slip through the finest cracks and over great distances. Always write with your heart!”
