Si1v3RfaNg
04-19-2009, 01:41 PM
The Sixth Gate
By Kyle Herman
Flickering light trickles across a tan-stained carpet, flowing through small spots underneath a heavily-decorated bed. Glowing synthetic stars stretch across the ceiling, providing ways of sight in the late hours of the night. A plethora of toys and stuffed animals sit upon a shelf above the bed, in which a young child sleeps, dreaming of wonderful things. The closet doors stirs with creaking echoes travelling into the boys ears, causing him to flounder around underneath his arabesque-filled, teal blanket. His elegant mind lay on the darkness of his soft, cushy pillows. All seems content at the late hour.
But the disturbing noises continue to outcast from within the closet which plows the child’s ears with unpleasant noises. He slowly begins to arise from his slumber, bringing one foot to the cold floor and rubbing his tiny, delightful eyes. His walking posture resembles that of a man recently leaving a bar, as he stumbles towards the door in confusion. His hand floats through the air towards the door knob, in attempt to possibly discover the source of this mysterious light. Once his delicate hand touches the knob, an unexpected feeling surges through the young boy’s body: a searing pain kicks in as the boy’s flesh begins to melt away. Steam rises towards the sky and a disgusting aroma fills the air. The boy then begins screaming as he quickly pulls away, waving his hand in the air like a crazed monkey as he stomps his legs up and down. Now his main concern is to calm down, as waking his parents wouldn’t be the best thing right now, since he got caught last night playing when the goal was sleeping.
His curiosity and concern take control of his natural thought process, as he looks for something to guard his hand from the ridiculously hot door knob. The boy ruthlessly searches his closet and dressers for something that would completely protect him from the heat of the doorknob. A fuzzy green sweater, in which he hates, catches his eye as he snatches it and makes his way to the door. Wrapping the comfy sweater around his hand, the boy grabs the knob and slowly begins open the door as the red light trickles across the room’s space. The door then is pulled by an unimaginably powerful force as it slams shut after flinging out of the boy’s light grip. An emaciated stream of fog floats from the crease below the door, filling the room with an eerie fog. Only fear can grip the boy’s heart as he sprints to his bed in an attempt to seek safety.
A scent of deceased flesh enters the child’s nostril which is emanating from the fog; the boy wrinkles his face in disgust, obviously not recognizing this horrendous smell. The disturbing noises continue to resonate from the closet door as the boy enters a fetal position underneath his covers. He shakes in fear as the perspiration begins to exit his pores, and tears begin to flow from his eyes. The boy screams at the top of his lungs, but nothing comes out, and the room suddenly becomes silent. Serene and mystically entrancing melodies begin to radiate from within the closet, almost hypnotizing the boy as he begins to leave the safety of his bed.
He reaches for the closet door knob, grasps it, and once again slowly creeks the door open while realizing that it is no longer reaching temperatures above the boiling point. Everything starts spinning as they boy’s eyes make contact with a large swirling pallet of bright warm colors. A sucking noise overwhelms his hearing as his body is pulled harshly into the strange doorway. Then, suddenly, everything goes black and the boy faints.
Dull crimson colors fill the boy’s eyesight as he flickers his eyelids in attempt to adjust the clarity of his vision to normal. Neutralized brown clouds glide through the dark sky and a large flaming sun outshines everything else in the sky. Black sand pelts the child’s face as he tries to pat it off, swinging his arms around and spitting out sand like faucet. The smell of decaying flesh once again fills his nostrils, leading to more tears and a quick spasm of the stomach. The boy vomits rapidly for a moment, and then studies his surroundings to get a general idea of where he is, which evidently was not his own room anymore.
The boy studied the environment for awhile, soon discovering a strange phenomenon appearing in mid-air above his head. A glowing, neutralized yellow dot was floating, swirling in circular motions seemingly writing something. A name suddenly came into view as the strange occurrence continued to set in motion: Blake. The boy had been so distracted and horrified that he had forgotten his own name, this only added to the terror that pulsated through his mind. He continued to stare at the glowing spectacle, as it began to write something else in the air, this time the message being in numbers.
Blake’s lip began to tremble as his own birth date began to emerge from this dot’s writing, his birthday being June 6th, 2006. The dashes and the zero then suddenly disintegrated from the message and splashed ash upon Blake’s smooth black-haired head. The new message was quite unclear to Blake, now simply just being the large number 666. While he assumed it was hiding some meaning behind it, he stored the number in the back of his mind and began to rise up from the desert-like ground. The black sand whipped up and dashed around like a wolf on the hunt as it repeatedly scratched at young Blake’s skin and pajamas.
Blake squinted in an effort to see through the thick gust, only to get some of it in his eye. He rubbed rapidly at his eyes pushing the sand out, only to find himself in a completely different location upon opening them. He stood upon a soft, cushy surface, with haze and fog surrounding him from all directions. He waved his hand slowly through the fog, as it split directly in two as his soft finger sliced through it. He then, thinking rubbing his eyes was a magical event, rubbed his eyes once more. He opened them unhurriedly, hoping for a nicer location upon gaining full vision. Fog and haze still encircled him; thoughts of sorrow and distress then started to fill his head with unpleasant thoughts, “Would he stuck here forever? Never to see anyone ever again? Never to see his family again?”
Tears suddenly began to seep from his eyes as he kneeled down into the soft surface. A realization then entered Blake’s thought process: he was in a cloud. It all made sense now, he must be in heaven! Why else would he be in a cloud after going through such a magically unique experience? But how had he died? He didn’t remember ever doing such a thing… but then again he did walk through that horrible doorway, which burned his hand horribly. Blake then made a glance at his hand, realizing that his burn mark was gone; he didn’t even notice that the pain had vanished.
By Kyle Herman
Flickering light trickles across a tan-stained carpet, flowing through small spots underneath a heavily-decorated bed. Glowing synthetic stars stretch across the ceiling, providing ways of sight in the late hours of the night. A plethora of toys and stuffed animals sit upon a shelf above the bed, in which a young child sleeps, dreaming of wonderful things. The closet doors stirs with creaking echoes travelling into the boys ears, causing him to flounder around underneath his arabesque-filled, teal blanket. His elegant mind lay on the darkness of his soft, cushy pillows. All seems content at the late hour.
But the disturbing noises continue to outcast from within the closet which plows the child’s ears with unpleasant noises. He slowly begins to arise from his slumber, bringing one foot to the cold floor and rubbing his tiny, delightful eyes. His walking posture resembles that of a man recently leaving a bar, as he stumbles towards the door in confusion. His hand floats through the air towards the door knob, in attempt to possibly discover the source of this mysterious light. Once his delicate hand touches the knob, an unexpected feeling surges through the young boy’s body: a searing pain kicks in as the boy’s flesh begins to melt away. Steam rises towards the sky and a disgusting aroma fills the air. The boy then begins screaming as he quickly pulls away, waving his hand in the air like a crazed monkey as he stomps his legs up and down. Now his main concern is to calm down, as waking his parents wouldn’t be the best thing right now, since he got caught last night playing when the goal was sleeping.
His curiosity and concern take control of his natural thought process, as he looks for something to guard his hand from the ridiculously hot door knob. The boy ruthlessly searches his closet and dressers for something that would completely protect him from the heat of the doorknob. A fuzzy green sweater, in which he hates, catches his eye as he snatches it and makes his way to the door. Wrapping the comfy sweater around his hand, the boy grabs the knob and slowly begins open the door as the red light trickles across the room’s space. The door then is pulled by an unimaginably powerful force as it slams shut after flinging out of the boy’s light grip. An emaciated stream of fog floats from the crease below the door, filling the room with an eerie fog. Only fear can grip the boy’s heart as he sprints to his bed in an attempt to seek safety.
A scent of deceased flesh enters the child’s nostril which is emanating from the fog; the boy wrinkles his face in disgust, obviously not recognizing this horrendous smell. The disturbing noises continue to resonate from the closet door as the boy enters a fetal position underneath his covers. He shakes in fear as the perspiration begins to exit his pores, and tears begin to flow from his eyes. The boy screams at the top of his lungs, but nothing comes out, and the room suddenly becomes silent. Serene and mystically entrancing melodies begin to radiate from within the closet, almost hypnotizing the boy as he begins to leave the safety of his bed.
He reaches for the closet door knob, grasps it, and once again slowly creeks the door open while realizing that it is no longer reaching temperatures above the boiling point. Everything starts spinning as they boy’s eyes make contact with a large swirling pallet of bright warm colors. A sucking noise overwhelms his hearing as his body is pulled harshly into the strange doorway. Then, suddenly, everything goes black and the boy faints.
Dull crimson colors fill the boy’s eyesight as he flickers his eyelids in attempt to adjust the clarity of his vision to normal. Neutralized brown clouds glide through the dark sky and a large flaming sun outshines everything else in the sky. Black sand pelts the child’s face as he tries to pat it off, swinging his arms around and spitting out sand like faucet. The smell of decaying flesh once again fills his nostrils, leading to more tears and a quick spasm of the stomach. The boy vomits rapidly for a moment, and then studies his surroundings to get a general idea of where he is, which evidently was not his own room anymore.
The boy studied the environment for awhile, soon discovering a strange phenomenon appearing in mid-air above his head. A glowing, neutralized yellow dot was floating, swirling in circular motions seemingly writing something. A name suddenly came into view as the strange occurrence continued to set in motion: Blake. The boy had been so distracted and horrified that he had forgotten his own name, this only added to the terror that pulsated through his mind. He continued to stare at the glowing spectacle, as it began to write something else in the air, this time the message being in numbers.
Blake’s lip began to tremble as his own birth date began to emerge from this dot’s writing, his birthday being June 6th, 2006. The dashes and the zero then suddenly disintegrated from the message and splashed ash upon Blake’s smooth black-haired head. The new message was quite unclear to Blake, now simply just being the large number 666. While he assumed it was hiding some meaning behind it, he stored the number in the back of his mind and began to rise up from the desert-like ground. The black sand whipped up and dashed around like a wolf on the hunt as it repeatedly scratched at young Blake’s skin and pajamas.
Blake squinted in an effort to see through the thick gust, only to get some of it in his eye. He rubbed rapidly at his eyes pushing the sand out, only to find himself in a completely different location upon opening them. He stood upon a soft, cushy surface, with haze and fog surrounding him from all directions. He waved his hand slowly through the fog, as it split directly in two as his soft finger sliced through it. He then, thinking rubbing his eyes was a magical event, rubbed his eyes once more. He opened them unhurriedly, hoping for a nicer location upon gaining full vision. Fog and haze still encircled him; thoughts of sorrow and distress then started to fill his head with unpleasant thoughts, “Would he stuck here forever? Never to see anyone ever again? Never to see his family again?”
Tears suddenly began to seep from his eyes as he kneeled down into the soft surface. A realization then entered Blake’s thought process: he was in a cloud. It all made sense now, he must be in heaven! Why else would he be in a cloud after going through such a magically unique experience? But how had he died? He didn’t remember ever doing such a thing… but then again he did walk through that horrible doorway, which burned his hand horribly. Blake then made a glance at his hand, realizing that his burn mark was gone; he didn’t even notice that the pain had vanished.