The Doorway

The Doorway

                “Far to the east there stands a mighty doorway. It is the only entrance to the City-That-Is-A-Mountain. A mountain five hundred metres tall at its peak; that looks almost like a pile of uneven blocks stacked by a long-dead giant. The solid stone outsides stand stalwart against the elements, and any who think to find entry elsewhere.

                “The door itself? Though it is four metres wide and ten metres tall, a child may gently push it open with a single hand. But there is a reason the door has seen no-one pass for over one hundred years – of those who have entered, only three have returned. Each was a mighty hero, two not even human. Yet each returned a tortured wreck, barely able to move or speak, only ever screaming incoherently for the rest of their lives.

                “One bore a diary: a tale of falling deep into the city shortly after entering. Though the diary quickly fell into madness (of the two weeks they spent within, all entries past the fourth day are illegible; all entries past the second day are unintelligible nonsense) it told of dark horrors beyond the normal imagination of mankind. Long-dead bodies still being endlessly tortured by bizarre machines. Screams forever echoing throughout the halls – the souls of those who died within, eternally bound and forever in pain.

                “These were merely what the diary managed to explain clearly – worse horrors were hinted at, described as best the author could. Above all else, the final clear line in the diary hints at the true depths the horrors reached: “Those who fall early herein are the lucky ones.”

                “So, would-be hero, I ask you: why do you seek to enter?”

                “Oh, curiosity mostly,” replied Dytja. “And I’ve already been there. It was pretty easy; I pressed the switch just through the doorway that turns on the lights and followed the guidelines written on the floor to keep on the safe path. At the far end I turned off the defences completely.”

                The wise old mayor looked at Dytja curiously. “If you have truly entered the city then you must have some token from within!” he said.

                “It’s not actually a city; those blocks really are just made of stone. A very special kind of stone that prevents dirt and rain from settling upon it, but stone nonetheless. The inside is a tunnel that leads to what was once a portal to another world; but the entire thing has been dismantled. Those who went inside… The traps cause intense hallucinations and force the afflicted to wander further in. The corpses showed signs of nothing more than self-harm – which isn’t surprising considering the hallucinations. So the story you just told? Pretty much just the worst the diary-writer could think of,” said Dytja.

                “Would you care to prove your words? I would dearly love to see inside,” the mayor replied, not-wholly convinced that Dytja had entered the ‘city’ unharmed.

                “Why not,” answered Dytja. “I’ll show you in myself.

                And so it was that later that day, the mystery of the City-That-Is-A-Mountain was finally resolved, once and for all, as Dytja showed the mayor and several other villagers through the behind the door.

                “It is good that it is not as terrible as it was said to be,” said the mayor once they reached the far end. “But there are still so many dead.”