The Open Door (19 page)

  Ella stood silenced by her own
tongue.  It seemed to swell the size of a large potato,
rendering her speechless.  She remembered their plans, closed
her eyes, and began praying. 

  “Get back!  Leave!”  Scott
screamed.  Then he realized that the little girl must be
somewhere still inside. “Abigail?  Sweetheart?  It’s me,
Scott.  I know you’re probably scared, but everything will be
OK.”

  “The Hell it will!”  It said from
within the pure form.  “She’s dead unless you give yourself to
me!”

  “Don’t do it, Scott!  Don’t
listen!”

  A dresser slid violently across the
floor, pinning Ella to the wall.  “You’re next!”  The
voice erupting from the precious little girl was grossly in
contrast with her appearance. 

  From within Abigail, Tall Man turned
to Scott.  He had his eyes closed and had sat the gun beside
him.  Ella too closed her eyes to gain focus, and together
they prayed. 

  Tall Man grabbed Scott’s wrist, and
even though he was using a hand half the size of his, the strength
was still present.  Scott could feel the intense grasp of the
tiny hand, but maintained focus. 

  In the background, Scott and Ella
could hear the room fill with growling.  Thoughts of
Mustapha’s mutilated body popped into Scott’s head, forcing him to
break away from his connection with God.  The beasts that
ripped Mustapha apart were in the room with them, he was sure of
it. 

  He felt light again, like in the
dream. 

  Ella could feel something pressing
against her neck.  It felt like a cold, wet nose.  If the
beasts were that tall, they would be able to rip the head off a
human in one bite.  Ella quickly got that thought out of her
mind, tuned out the hell-hounds, kept her eyes shut, and continued
praying.  It worked before so maybe it would again.

  Terrified, Scott opened his eyes,
afraid he would slip away if he didn’t.  It was a mistake,
because in the room were giant black dogs with glowing red
eyes.  From ground to shoulder they looked to be five feet
tall.  Most of them surrounded him, as if awaiting orders from
the demon.  One of them smelled Ella, probing her neck like it
could taste the blood still in her pulsing veins. 

  He continued to drift away even though
he was alert.  The room and all its contents began to
fade.  He remembered what Ella said, and closed his eyes,
squeezing them shut as tightly as he could.  He began praying
again.

  In the background, he could hear the
hounds become increasingly agitated as they thrashed around,
gnashing their teeth.  He focused as much as he could to shut
them out.  The only thing audible was the sound of his own
voice in his head. 

  Time ceased to exist—at least in
Scott’s mind. All he knew was that he was becoming exhausted, and
it had become nearly impossible to retain focus—to shut out the
evil that surrounded him—allowing for only good thoughts. Each time
he would drift back in to the room where the demon continued its
efforts to enter his body, he could feel the hot breath of Hell’s
hounds upon his exposed skin. They were waiting close by his
body—ready to pounce should the Tall Man succeed in stealing
Scott’s soul and exit his body to leave for the realms he longed
for. The very thought of his lifeless body being torn to shreds by
the giant beasts was enough to give him the will and focus to
resist any temptation to fall out of his place of prayer.

Another block of time had passed—he could
still feel his body—and he was alone within it. He had not heard
Ella scream out in pain and horror, so he had hoped she was still
OK.  His focus must have been superhuman, because he heard
nothing and felt nothing: no bloodthirsty hounds, no demon voices,
not even the grasp on his wrist. Was it safe to open his
eyes—to focus on the room once again? Or was it a trick to bring
him out into a moment of weakness?

  A sobbing broke the silence.  It
was Ella.  He opened his eyes.  The hounds were gone as
was Abigail.  “Where is she?  Where’s Abbie?”  He
asked.

  Ella looked to the ground behind the
foot of the bed.  Scott leaned and saw her tiny hand sticking
out.  He ran to her, picked her up and held her.  Tall
Man and the beasts were gone, but so was Abigail.  Emotionally
drained, they broke down and cried uncontrollably.  He placed
one hand on the back of her head, the other on the middle of her
back, and he pulled her in tight as he cried on her shoulder.

  His eyes were closed and tearing when
he felt a hand pat his back.  It had to be Ella.  He
opened his eyes and Ella was still standing on the other side of
the room, only now she wasn’t crying.  She stared in disbelief
and then started laughing.  He pulled away from Abigail and
looked into her now open eyes.  A life radiated from her, and
from a faint smile, he knew she would be OK. 

  Ella ran over and joined the
embrace.  They celebrated not only victory, but also
life. 

In the aftermath, everything was sorted out,
and order replaced chaos. 

Abigail regained her memory. 

Scott and Ella took the necessary steps to
adopt her.  After the adoption was complete, they got married,
and their sweet Abigail walked them down the aisle and stood by
their side throughout the ceremony. 

  In a few months, they moved into a new
home where they would be able to start over and build a lifetime of
memories. 

  When the timing was right, they asked
their daughter about the events of that horrible evening.  She
remembered being frightened.  She told them that something
ugly was inside her, and that she prayed to God, and asked him to
make the scary monster go away.  Then she woke up in Scott’s
arms, wondering why he was crying.  She vaguely remembered
playing games with them, and how much she wished they were her
parents.  And then in the sweetest of voices, she said,
“Wishes really do come true.”

  In time, city workers found the body
of a tall older man—crouched down in the sewer.  He was never
claimed, and the city paid to have him buried the cheapest
way. 

  A year went by, and the Abrahamson’s
enjoyed leading a normal and exceptionally happy life
together.  No strange sightings, no dead animals coming to
life, no possession obsessed demons, and no death.  The door
to evil had been permanently sealed. 

  On a night like any other, they all
sat to share a dinner prepared by Ella and her little kitchen
helper, Abigail.  While enjoying the tasty meal and the loving
company, the phone rang.  Scott decided to let it go, as
spending time with his family was most important.  The phone
rang again, “It’s OK.  You can go ahead and answer it. 
We’ll wait for you,” Ella said.   

  Scott picked up the phone,
“Hello?”

  “Spookster?”  It sounded like,
Cody.

Brian Braham was born, Friday, February 13,
1970, in Denver Colorado. He and his wife, Candra, currently reside
in northern Colorado with their five beautiful children, and have
been happily married for eleven years. “The Open Door” is Brian’s
first novel, and he is currently working on his second, which is
titled, “Death by Design.” Aside from writing, Brian also plays
guitar, composes music, paints and draws, and he’s been studying
and competing in martial arts since 1986.

For more information on Brian Brahm and his
upcoming projects, please visit:
http://brianbrahm.wordpress.com/