Laneville's Gate To Hell

Appanoose: The phone rang at my parents house at about 2:30 am that hideous night. The Kramers told me very little---just that I should get down there as soon as I could. They'd already called their doctor to examine their 16 year old daughter, Jenny, but they knew he could do little to save them from what was happening. I got there just as Dr. Medford Klein finished with Jenny. He came down the stairs and nodded curtly at me and handed Martha a small envelope with two tranquilizers for Jenny. Walter asked him how is girl was and the doctor said she was in shock, but that he had found no sign that she had been raped. At that point, Walter asked me to go into the kitchen and make a pot of coffee. Though out of the room, I could still easily hear them talking in the foyer.

     "I believe she has injured herself purposely during some perverse mastabatory fantasy and is now expressing intense guilt," Dr. Klein said.

     Walter and Martha protested, saying that he hadn't listened to them.

     "You folks have been under a lot of stress," he answered almost hotly. "I think what you've got here is an old house, a full moon, and a lot stress-related issues working on your subconscious. Your daughter screams in the dead of night. You're half awake; you see things. That's all there is to it."

     When Dr. Klein left, Martha and Walter came and told me what had happened.

     Jenny said she had woken in bed clutching the sheets suddenly feeling cold and frightened. Suddenly, a headless spectre emerged through the wall into her room to place its bearded head on the dresser opposite the bed where it shouted obscenities. The body tore tattered blood-splattered clothing from its body, lumbered grotesquely into the horrified girl's bed and raped her.

     Her screams brought Martha and Walter to the door of her room. Finding it inexplicably barred, they threw themselves against it as obscene shouts and grunts came from within. Suddenly, a headless human figured emerged from the wall dressed in ragged clothing wet with blood. It held aloft a black bearded head, its eyes wide and darting, a carnivorous grimace on its face. Seeing Martha and Walter paralyzed with cold fear, the head blurted "I've had her! And soon I'll have the both of you, too!"

     The figure stepped across the hall into a wall and vanished. At that instant, the door to Jenny's room swung open. They found their daughter rocking and muttering on her bed, numerous cuts and scratches covered her face and breasts.

     They called Dr. Klein and then phoned me.

     We were old friends. I'd grown up in Laneville and had baby-sat Jenny for them when I was in highschool. They thought I would know how to handle their problem since I was interning with Third Eye and probably solved hundreds of paranormal problems.

     Nothing ever strange had happened in the house before. Neither did they know anything about the apparition or recognize it in any way. They were just plain scared.

     I went up to talk to Jenny. She was surprised to see me and joked that I'd come to make the monsters under her bed go away. I said I would try. But she was still badly shaken, I decided to question her later. She begged her mom not to leave her alone again, so Martha stayed with her for another hour after she'd taken the pills.

     Walter and I drank coffee in the kitchen. Walter paced back and forth while I watched. We didn't notice Martha right away standing in the door. She was crying nearly hysterical holding a blue woolen blanket from Jenny's bed. It was sodden with blood and had dripping red splotches on the floor.

     "Walter and I stared. A puddle of blood had formed on the floor around Martha's feet. And at every frightened gasp, more of the crimson liquid streamed down. The blanket was bleeding.

     "Martha, put it down and move away!" I shouted. She backed into the hall. Gingerly I took a corner, jerking my head for Walter to take another. We lifted it up between us like a flag. In the middle of the blanket there was pentacle of dripping blood as well as some other symbols I couldn't recognize. Suddenly, the blanket wriggled sickeningly and a deluge of blood-smeared maggots plopped onto the floor as an unbearable stench of decay filled the room. Walter dashed to the sink and vomited. Martha screamed hysterically.

     I gasped and dropped the blanket to the floor. An instant later, the blood and disgusting wriggling maggots were gone, but the stink of rotten flesh persisted.

     "Is the whiskey still in the same cupboard?" I asked. Walter nodded, too exhausted to ask how I knew. I found the bottle and poured three drinks.

     As soon as the sun was up, I went out for donuts. As I pulled back into the driveway, I noticed a strange white haired man standing across the street. He wore a threadbare tweed coat and had a long unkempt beard. He bobbed about and beat his arms against his sides trying to keep warm. And though he stood near a bus stop sign, the way he kept his eyes riveted on the house told me he wasn't waiting for a bus.

     Walter met me at the door and said that Jenny was still sleeping. Just then, Martha ran up to us pale and anxious.

     "There's a door in the basement wall! I went down to wash Jenny's bedding and there it was! A door in the brickwall."

     We all went down the stairs, the same ones I took Jenny down almost a decade before to show her that there were no monsters in the basement so she could go to bed. I'd let her poke all over the place down there; let her thoroughly inspect every nook and cranny and even get into the Christmas decorations box just so she'd know she was really safe. I knew that room. There was no door down there. Ever.

     But as soon as we got down, I saw it. A door in the brickwall just like it had been built there. It was old and musty smelling, with dingy off-white paint peeling off it and even has the same four-panel design as all the other doors in the house.

     Walter brushed away the cobwebs strung across the rusty doorknob and turned it. It didn't turn easily and he had to use both hands. It unlatched with an ominous echoing clack and he pulled the door open. We gathered around him. There, leading down into darkness stretched a wooden staircase. In a niche by the door inside, a stack of candles and a box of matches waited like a sort of invitation to descend into the black mystery.

     "Seems perfectly normal to me," Walter said peering into the gloom. "It's just not supposed to be here."

     He lit a candle and went down the stairs. Hardly daring to breathe, we watched him descend until he was almost a speck.

     "Nothing unusual so far. I've reached a landing. I can't believe it's still brick this far down."

     The door slammed shut. And Walter screamed from deep below.

     Frantic, we tugged and hammered on the door. Nothing budged it. Martha sank to the floor sobbing uncontrollably. I bolted upstairs and phoned the police.

     Within minutes, the police and fire fighters attacked the door with fire axes yet were wholly unable to so much as scratch the door's ancient surface. Laneville's Police Chief, Rusty Fergus, fired his 9mm pistol twice at the door's lock but still the door held fast. And all the while, Walter's tortured screams filtered throughout the house, engulfing all with a spine chilling horror.

     At that point, Martha ran upstairs. I followed her, thinking that she was intending to harm herself. I suppose I panicked too, because all she wanted to was to get her daughter and herself out of the house. We found Jenny in her bedroom just waking from the tranquilizers. Without warning, the bedroom door slammed shut.

     Jenny let out a horrible wail as the dismembered head appeared from thin air atop of her dresser.

     "Sluts and temptresses!" it croaked, blood bubbling grotesquely out its mouth. "I know what your hearts hide! Your saintly virtuousness feebly restrains your burning lust! Your blushing cheek scarcely disguises your rapacious desire! I'll have you all!"

     And at that, the headless body materialized in the midst of the room, tearing blood soaked clothing from itself revealing a heavily muscular body bleeding from its severed neck.

     It stumbled towards me, clawing the air in front of it, the head laughing hoarsely. I threw a book at it, but it passed impotently through. It lunged and got my wrist with a hand. Unbearable cold filled me, so horribly alien and disgusting was the sensation. I screamed. The spectre hooked a finger onto my shirt collar and tore the front of my shirt and bra away.

     Martha punched and grabbed at the thing but it did little more than grab handfuls of air or hit me instead.

     Suddenly the door burst apart behind us. The body dropped me and turned about. There in the door stood the strange white haired man I had seen standing across the street, an short carved iron rod in his hand. He raised his other hand above his head and shouted in a fantastically deep and mighty voice:

     "Nu scylun hergan hefaenricaes uard, metud¦s maecti end his modigidanc, uerc uuldurfadur; se he uundra gihuaes, eci dryhtim, or astelid¦!"

     The severed head upon the dresser shrieked in horrible hysterics, "Ic ne grette! Ic ne grette!"

     From his upheld hand the old man let fall a stream of ash and as it hit the floor, the grisly apparitions disappeared.

     "Walter is safe, now," he said quietly. His accent was strange, almost British and almost German.

     "Is it gone?" I asked, clutching my torn shirt together.

     "Merely banished," he sighed. "Tonight, he will return. He will not come alone, then."

     "Was it---" Martha stammered, "Satan?"

     He looked at her hard and then at Jenny and then at myself.

     "Satan's a cardboard cut out to scare ill mannered brats," he spat, "The spectre you saw was a real spirit caught in a powerful vortex. It found the girl's gateway into this world!"

     "Gateway?" I gasped, turning to frown at Jenny.

     "Aye," he shouted, pointing at her. "It's here. But take care! Something infinitely older and malevolent than your pathetic Devil waits at the center of that vortex. It followed that spectre to this house and will come through its portal in the basement into this world, soon. It will come and kill. Everything. Everywhere. For all time."

     Martha asked who he was; I jabbered something idiotic trying understand.

     He smiled patronizingly and pressed three bright copper nails into my palm. "The girl must destroy the gate and then she must nail the portal in the basement shut with these."

     "Is it," Jenny snuffled, "is it because I'm a virgin?"

     The old man sneered, "You are a pathetic little hussy, aren't you. You drew the gate and put it under your bed because you thought it'd make you better at it with your boyfriend! Fool! You happen to be the lightest one. It may take the weight of three adults just keep that door shut while you drive the nails---if you're lucky! You should have waited until you were older and wiser to fool with things you know nothing about."

     "What will you do?" I asked.

     "Get clear in case you fail," he said leaving the room. "The others must be told and we need to gather our strength."

     "What happens if we fail," Martha demanded.

     "Then even death won't save you," he called, heavily treading down the steps. A moment later, he was gone.

     Jenny sheepishly brought out the piece of black cardboard with a pentagram and other symbols drawn on it with silver ink. In the midst of the Pentagram there were some drops of dried blood. I copied the symbols into my notebook---they were the same symbols as those I saw on the bleeding blanket. Then, we took the cardboard downstairs.

     The police and firemen were gone when we came down. Walter was sitting in the living room, a tear streaked down his cheek, his hands clamped around a glass of whiskey. Martha and Jenny instantly flew to his side. When I told him that Jenny had created the gate, he turned and glared at her with pure rage.

     "Daddy, please, I didn't," she sputtered.

     Walter slapped her solidly across the face, knocking her to the floor. Martha shouted and put herself between father and daughter.

     A moment later, the tension passed. Walter buried his head in Martha's shoulder, obviously overwhelmed and remorseful. I helped Jenny to her feet. She understood her father's state and took his hand for a moment. I told her burn the gate in the fireplace. As she did, I told Walter about the strange old man.

     We trooped down into the basement and gathered around the door. As soon as Walter, Martha and I touched it, it seemed to groan and pulsate obscenely. We pushed hard against it. It pushed disgustingly back. Jenny took one of the copper nails and positioned it against the edge of the door.

     "NO!" a chorus of vile voices thundered.

     Jenny shrank away from the door in terror. We shouted at her to do it. She began crying. A voice called her name. The spectre's severed head pushed out through the door's surface, jabbering and spouting gouts of obscenities. She bellowed in rage then and hit the nail. A horrible screech went up around us as the door became a sheet of human skin and blood gushed out of the wound. It wriggled and bulged. Arms sprouted from the door, grabbing and punching us. Jenny stood her ground, cursing and yelling loudly, driving one nail in after the other until the last nail bit hard and deep into the quivering mass.

     At that, the door vanished entirely. All that was left was the three copper nails embedded in the brick wall.

     Pray they never come out.