Chapter 1 Part 2

The man sat in his living room, impatient for the arrival of his guest. While he waited, he thought about the girl who had called him out to the rundown bookstore. What the hell was her problem? She had been waving her arms around like a lunatic and screaming at his car as he drove down the street, so why did she pretend like nothing had happened when he stopped for her? He felt slightly bad for driving off and leaving her in the rain like that, but he didn’t have time for her games. His guest would be arriving soon.

                It had been a week since he had been receiving nightly visits from a man about his own age. When he first showed up at the door, common sense told him not to invite a complete stranger into his house, but a single look into the stranger’s brilliant green eyes, he instantly felt at peace for the first time in a very long time. So he let him inside. Each night the man and the stranger would talk about the man’s life for hours. And each night, after the stranger had left, he would wonder what could have possibly possessed him to tell his life story to someone he barely knew who had randomly shown up at his doorstep. For some reason, the man couldn’t help himself and tonight would be no different.

                The doorbell rang and along with it came another crack of thunder. The man shakily got up and staggered towards the door; he didn’t understand why he was suddenly so scared of thunderstorms. His heart was racing and he could barely hold his hand still enough to open the doorknob. As he opened the door and saw the stranger’s shadowy silhouette, his heart skipped a beat. Another bolt of lightning came down from the sky, followed by thunder. The man was scared he could barely even breathe, until his eyes finally found the stranger’s green eyes and all the fear melted away in an instant.

                “Sorry I’m late Brad,” said the stranger, as he stepped into the house.

                “No problem,” Brad replied. “Jesus, it’s really bad out there! You’re completely soaked!”

                “Oh, I don’t really mind the rain,” replied the stranger.

                “Well, let me at least get you a towel. No offense man, but you look like a wet dog.” Brad hurried to the bathroom, but when he came back, his guest was waiting for him on the couch, completely dry.

                “Whoa, how did you do that?” Brad asked.

                “Brad, we need to talk,” said his guest.

                “But we do that every night,” Brad said. “And I still don’t understand how you’re so dry.”

                “I can’t keep doing this anymore,” the guest said, ignoring him.

                “Can’t keep doing what? Why does it sound like you’re breaking up with someone,” Brad said. “At least let me offer you a beer before you get all deep on me.”

                “The neighbours are starting to notice the smell.”

                “The neighbours need to mind their own damn business!” barked Brad.

                “C’mon Brad just admit it! You’re not the only lost soul I have to take care of,” the stranger replied.

                “My wife left me!” Brad yelled. “She left me for some other dude and I just-“

                “Your wife didn’t leave you, Brad. She’s right upstairs.”

                “She’s gone. She left the same night that you first showed up! You have to believe me!”

                “Look, I know, your marriage was rough, okay. I get it. You got married way too young. You weren’t ready. You fought a lot. Then one thing led to another. But admitting what happened is the only way to move on.”

                Brad sat silently with his fists and jaw tightly clenched for a while. “Fine,” he said finally. “I’ll admit it.”

                “Finally! Thank God,” replied the stranger.

                “I killed her,” Brad said. “You happy now?”

                “Very happy,” said the stranger. Suddenly, his eyes weren’t so comforting anymore. “Now that you’ve admitted to it we can move this whole thing along. Now will you come peacefully or do I have to use force?”

                “I’ll come peacefully.”

                Brad and the stranger got up and walked out of the house. Waiting out in the driveway, was a middle aged woman with the same eyes as the stranger.       

                “You finally got through to him, sir!” she said with a smile.

                “Well, it’s been a long time, but I’ve still got it!” replied the stranger. “But just to be sure…”

The stranger turned and looked at Brad straight in the eyes with a wicked smile. “Brad, you now who I am, right?”

                “Yeah,” replied Brad.

                “And why I showed up on your doorstep that night?”

                “Mhmm.”

                “And why you couldn’t help but let me in.”

                “Yeah.”

                “So are you ready to say it?”

                The man’s jaw clenched harder than ever before. It has been a week since that night. A week of denial. A week of self-hatred. A week of loneliness and despair. I had been a week since the night he ended two lives.

                “I’m dead,” Brad said hesitantly. “After I shot my wife, I shot myself. I’m ready to move on.”

                The stranger’s smile grew wider and wider. “Summon the Gates, Ellen,” he said. “We have consent.”

                “Right away, sir” replied the woman who had been waiting for them out in the rain. She pulled out a blade from inside of her jacket and sliced open the palm of her hand. A simple wooden door materialized where the blood fell to the ground.

                “That’s it?” Brad asked.

                “The Gates look different for everyone,” the stranger replied. “Any questions before you go? Please say no, I don’t have a degree in philosophy.”

                “Nope,” said Brad. “I’m sure I’ll have answers soon enough.” Brad stepped through the door and as he closed it behind him, it vanished.

                “You didn’t have to do this, sir” said the woman. “You could’ve easily assigned this case to someone else.”

                “I’m in my office all the time dealing paperwork and bureaucracy all the time, Ellen” said the stranger. “I even I want to go out and work a case from time to time.”

                “As you wish, sir,” replied Ellen.

                “Ellen, I may be your boss, but how many times have I told you to just call me Zach?”

                “As you wish, Zach.”

As Zach and Ellen turned to walk towards the street, within an instant, they were gone.