The Uninvited Guest

A Story by Nick

After waking from a coma, a man discovers a mysterious door and unknowingly lets in a mysterious visitor.

It has often been wondered what happens to the human brain’s thought process when the body is in a vegetative state. What happens when the mind is freed from the insignificant trials presented to us by everyday life? Do our simple, detached nerve signals relate in any way to the real world?

On a completely unrelated topic, Ted Michaels woke up. His eyes fluttered open, his pupils shrinking as they took in light for the first time in days. He tried to sit up, and did, with great difficulty. Nearly his entire body was covered in burns and scars, red and shining, but healing nonetheless.

Slowly but surely, he remembered the last few minutes of his conscious life. The heat, the fire, the blood... He remembered the accident. Salty tears leaked out of his eyes, stinging horribly as they slid over the raw flesh on his face. His painful reminiscing was abruptly ended as the curtain surrounding his hospital bed was noisily thrown open. It was Ted’s wife, Elliot Michaels.

She knelt at his side, lovingly, yet lightly, so as not to hurt him, holding his hand. Of the few things Ted remembered, one was his wife’s beauty. Even now, with her eyes red-rimmed from crying and her brown hair a mess from several sleepless nights, she was obviously very attractive. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she whispered, and kissed her husband gently on the head.

“Honey, we’re out of eggs,” came a call from the kitchen. Ted sighed. “Just a second, I’ll check the basement fridge.” He got up, immediately feeling a throbbing ache return to his legs. He gingerly walked across the living room to the basement door. It opened with an obnoxious screech.

Ted felt along the wall for the light switch. He clicked it on. The small basement was flooded with light from the many old light bulbs hanging from the ceiling at various locations around the room.

Ted didn’t go down to the basement often. There was never much of a need to. The only thing down there that was useful was the fridge, and a few tools and varied hardware scattered around the place. He half-limped over to the fridge and opened the door. No eggs. As he closed it again, something caught his eye. It was a tiny door, just by the foot of the stairs.

Ted didn’t remember it ever being there before. Then again, he had only lived in the house for a few months. He and Elliot had moved to Solitude, Michigan just after Ted was released from the hospital. It was a quiet town, far away from anywhere important, hence the name. Nothing ever happened in Solitude. Ted had certainly never heard of strange little doors appearing mysteriously in people’s houses.

There was nothing particularly odd about the door, except its size. It was about a foot and a half tall, half as wide, and made of wooden boards. It had a polished silver doorknob that shone in the mid-morning sun.

Ted was a naturally curious person. He wanted to know what was behind the door. He knelt down, groaning in discomfort, and grasped the tiny silver doorknob. It turned, releasing a quiet hiss of musty air. Behind the door, there was darkness. It was pitch black, and seemed to want to escape its silent imprisonment behind the door. Ted backed away, letting the door swing shut.

He ascended the basement stairs as fast as he could with his bad legs. He decided not to tell Elliot; she was superstitious and would worry.

It was a cold night. Ted shivered under his blanket. Elliot had been asleep beside him for hours, curled at his side, her breath gently brushing against his face. Ted couldn’t keep his thoughts off the door. What was it doing there? What exactly was it hiding? These ideas piled up and up until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to know the answer to all of his questions.

He once again made the trip downstairs to the basement. The door was still there, the silver knob glistening in the light from his flashlight. Once again he opened it, and once again there was only darkness. But something was different. The darkness was oozing forward, out of the doorway. Panicking, Ted slammed the door. The darkness continued to slowly flow out, seeping through the slats and the base of the door.

Ted ran back upstairs and slid into bed beside Elliot. He stared at the ceiling, breathing hard. He could have sworn he heard the basement door creak open across the house. He looked over at Elliot. She did not wake. He did not sleep.

Another day passed. Ted didn't say much, for the door and the darkness occupied his thoughts. That night, fatigue won over him and he slept.

A knock on the front door awoke Ted in the early hours of the morning. Silently, he got up to investigate, ever so careful not to awaken his sleeping wife. At the door, he clicked on his flashlight. Through the window, he saw a shadowy figure standing on his front porch.

“Hello?” Ted called out through the partially open door.

“Hello!” Replied a voice. It was strangely familiar. “Who are you,” asked Ted, “and what do you want?” “My name is not your concern. I am from behind the Darkness. I am here to take you back,” the voice replied. Ted opened the front door all the way. There on the doorstep was a tall, bald man, in a black suit, leaning on the railing. There was something wrong with him. The air around him was chilly, and the edges of his form seemed blurred and out of focus. It was like he had been cut and pasted into the world, almost like he didn't belong here. Ted realized he was staring and immediately averted his eyes.

The tall man chuckled, noticing Ted’s bewilderment. “No, I’m not from here, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m simply visiting you. Thank you for letting me in, although your cellar could use a dusting.” The man laughed at his own joke. His laugh was shrill and raspy. It sent a chill down Ted’s spine. “But, as I was saying,” continued the tall man, “I am here to take you back to the real world.” Ted was becoming more and more confused. “But this is the real world. This is where I live.” said Ted. “No it’s not. You remember waking up, don’t you?” asked the man. Ted remembered that moment like it was yesterday. He nodded. “No you don’t. You never woke up. Right this moment, in this real world, you are still in a coma. You’re sleeping, Ted Michaels. It’s time to wake up.”

Ted was shaking in fear. What if he was sleeping? Even if he woke up again, would he wake up into the real, physical world, or just another one his brain had created for him? “I don’t want to wake up. I like it here. I have everything I need, everything I want. Leave, and we’ll both carry on. I’ll let you back in so you can go through the door.” suggested Ted. It was true. He was perfectly happy here in Solitude. It was peaceful and quiet. It was perfect. “I can’t do that,” the man whispered, with a sympathetic smile, “that’s not how it’s supposed to be.” “Why the hell not?” Ted was yelling now. For a reason he could not explain, he wanted nothing more at this point in time than for this man to leave, and never come back. Just his presence put Ted off, unsettled him. “My employers would not be happy. They need you to wake up.” “Why do they need that?” asked Ted. “I can’t tell you that,” said the man. “Look, you can either wake up by yourself or I’ll wake you myself. The first option will be a good amount less painful.”

Ted had had enough. He slammed the front door. And glared at the tall man through the window. The man was shaking his head, looking very disappointed in Ted. Ted went back to bed and fell into a restless sleep.

Ted woke up the next morning feeling very tired. He had not slept well at all. He went out to get the newspaper. As he turned back to face his house, he saw something out of the corner of his eye, a figure of sorts. There, standing not twenty feet away, in the front yard, was the tall man. He waved calmly at Ted, the sad smile on his face once again. Ted approached him, ready to yell at him again, tell him to leave. Without warning the man ran at him. Ted flinched, ready for the impact. The impact didn’t come. Instead, there was a wrenching sensation in his gut. It got more intense and uncomfortable, until it felt like Ted’s insides were being torn to shreds He fell to the ground and curled into a ball and everything went black.

Ted went down to the basement. It had been a few weeks since he had been released from the hospital. His legs ached and his arms itched. He walked over to the fridge. There were no eggs. He sighed. As he turned to go back up the stairs, something caught his eye. It was a tiny door, just by the foot of the stairs. He started backing back upstairs. He couldn't take his eyes off the door. It was familiar somehow, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He approached it, curious, and turned the doorknob. Behind the door was nothing but darkness.