Through the Door

It seems that the experiment was once again successful. I have transcribed the next portion of the story:

“Gwendolyn should grab some jeans first. You never know with adventures. They can get cold.”

When Gwendolyn heard the voice she jumped straight up and landed on her feet with a thud, her eyes wide and her pulse pounding.

 Another voice came out of the dark, “Grab her baseball bat, those always come in handy when battling dragon kings and other weird things.”

Gwendolyn looked about her room wildly, but no one was there. Yet the voices had been clear and distinct. Another one came, “Gwendolyn should get her flashlight and her bathrobe,” it said, then whispered as if still talking to someone else: “You should never go anywhere without your towel.”

Gwendolyn looked around her room again. Unless someone was hiding under the bed, there was no one there. And yet there were voices talking about her in the darkness.

She almost screamed for her parents right then. Star or no star, hearing voices talk about her in the dark was terrifying.

“Gwendolyn!!!” A fourth voice, and this time, it was actually talking to her. “Put on jeans and probably a light jacket!! Grab a frying pan and flashlight and get through the door!!!!”

“Hello?” Gwendolyn called softly. “Is anyone there? Who are you?”  There was no answer. Gwendolyn looked back to the door. The light was fading. She held her breath and cracked the door open to peek inside, and her face was met by rush of misty wind, as might be felt in a light rain. Behind the door where storage shelves used to be was a round tunnel with glowing stones embedded in its earth walls. The stones in the tunnel glowed softly, all pulsing together in time along with Gwendolyn’s. All the stones seemed to be clustered toward the entrance; about ten meters down the tunnel was totally dark.

“Flashlight. Right.” Gwendolyn said, and propping the closet door open with the chair from her desk, she quickly changed into her most comfortable pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then pulled on the green windbreaker her grandmother had given her for Christmas. On the floor where she had left it after building a blanket fort last Saturday was an old beach towel printed with a camouflage pattern, and although she couldn’t think why she would need it, she picked it up and hung it over her shoulders as if she was going to the beach. Her flashlight was in her desk drawer, the baseball bat she had taken from her brother’s room when he wouldn’t let her play his with his Wii was under the bed. Clutching the bat  in both hands and with the flashlight sticking out of her pocket, Gwendolyn stepped into the closet, ready to strike monsters and voices in the dark alike.

As soon as she stepped into the tunnel, the glowing stopped. Gwendolyn let out a squeal in the dark and dropped the bat as she fumbled for the flash light. She clicked it on, and realized that even though she hadn’t closed the door,  the tunnel now stretched both in front of and behind her. Wondering if the door had somehow just receded and was waiting for her down there, she shined her flashlight back in the direction she had come from. She saw nothing but cold darkness, swallowing the yellow beam of light, but she thought she could hear water running. In the other direction, Gwendolyn realized there was a faint red glow, and she could feel heat. She heard a heavy shifting, as if something was moving around in the dark, maybe more than one something.

“Hello?” She called softly, hoping the voices in her room, the ones who told her to come here, had followed and were listening. She hoped they were there, even though she wasn’t sure she could trust them. “Now what do I do?”

Please post your comments here and I will again send them to Gwendolyn. We must not abandon her now!

I believe I can keep this point in the story until around 11 PM or so on Friday night.

Thank you for you assistance!