Devil's Gateway

Chapter Twelve

The blinding light may have appeared heavenly, but my instinct told me it was anything but. As soon as my aching body crossed the threshold, the lights flipped on. I squinted my eyes at the intensity, raising my hand up to shield myself. It shone brighter than any headlight or lamp I had ever seen. White light as bright as the ground after snowfall seemed to be the only thing that filled the room.

There was no ceiling.

No floor.

No walls.

Just white.

"Hello?" I called out into the void, my voice carrying a rasp. Like a whisper in the still of the night, my cry fell on deaf ears.

I half expected a monster to crawl out of the nothing and finish me off. What demonic beings lurked in wait? Another killer clown? Or possibly something I hadn't seen yet? Maybe the werewolf from my childhood nightmares wanted me to be its midnight snack?

The twisted Allison did warn me that this would be my worst room yet. So far it reminded me of a padded cell in an insane asylum—alone and white.

My feet carried me forward, in spite of how much my body protested.  All I wanted to do was find the magic door and reach freedom. The thought of escape sparked a bit of hope within me.

Images of Allison's worried face as I walked through the doors flashed in my mind. I could already see her jaw slack and eyes widen as she took me in. Tears would well in her eyes. She wouldn't hesitate to rush me to the hospital, scolding me for my stupid decision the entire way there. 

A smile snaked its way on my lips. She kept me going.

The house had kindly restored my injuries. My head throbbed, and my palm pulsed. Every inch of my body cried for relief.

Freedom was my reprieve.

Walking through the room, I found it eerily quiet. Not even my footsteps carried noise. The silence left me on edge. Goosebumps plagued my skin, leading my hair to stand on edge. An electric energy hung in the air, reminding me of my plight with the Leviathan. If I closed my eyes, I almost felt like I was floating above the crimson sea once again.

My stomach curled, leading me to stop cold in my tracks. The electricity seemed to sneak past my defenses, seeping in through my pores and weakening my body. All the weight my body carried shifted to my limbs, making me feel like cinder blocks had been tied around them.    Nausea teased my stomach. A bit of bile festered in my throat, waiting for permission to come rushing up to the surface like a volcano ready to explode. With eyes closed, I thought about happy thoughts. Allison. Freedom.

Sweat dripped from my forehead as I fought the battle. My thoughts of tranquility waging war against the prickle of nausea. I focused all energy on my balled fists. Painful joints distracted me from tossing my cookies.

Minutes—maybe hours later, the nausea passed. I could have dosed off. I found myself curled in a fetal position on the ground.

The world around me spun as I cautiously found my footing. My skin drenched in a cold sweat. A chattering noise filled the air around me. I scanned the room, looking for a source behind the sound.

The vibrations from my lips made me realize that I was the sound's culprit.

I no longer felt pain.

I felt nothing.

Only cold.

Shivers shook my body. I quickly wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to generate heat.

Was this room an ice box waiting to freeze me to death? Out of everything I lived through, Jack Frost would be my downfall?

I pushed forward at a slower pace. Frozen limbs could only travel so fast.