The Open Door (18 page)

Scott was next to get ready and he wore
shorts and a t-shirt. It was also modest and very simple, but Ella
still took notice to parts of his physique not normally on
display.

Now both were in bed, he with a firearm under
his pillow for security, and she next to her protector who slept
between her and the door.

Once again they shared a late night on little
sleep, only to wake early.

A part of them hoped for Tall Man so they get
it over with and go about their lives—another part dreaded the
thought of the unavoidable encounter.

In earth’s realm he became known as, Tall
Man. In his realm he went by the name, Voker. Either way he was one
and the same, but his appearance was vastly different. He couldn’t
very well walk on earth among humans in his traditional form. The
human form he chose was freakish enough, but imagine a nearly seven
foot subhuman form with pale transparent skin, revealing every vein
in its body, a skull shaped more like a bat’s than a human’s,
webbing that connected from the elbows to the waist—almost like bat
wings, uneven rows of fangs, and blacked out eyes that reflected
unholy images of Hell.

Bodies must be left behind when leaping
realms, but back where Tall Mall called home; he had been given a
body to suit his true nature. It was part of the punishment . . .
to have the appearance reflect the soul it concealed—the uglier the
soul, the uglier the demon. Compared to demons that spawned from
souls of certain ruthless, Middle-Eastern leaders and terrorists,
or other murderous and suppressive dictators, Tall Man would appear
pleasing to the eye. But to the average person he would appear
hideous.

Using what little abilities he had, Tall Man
kept Abigail sedated until the time he would need her.

He hid in an underground pipeline he accessed
through a manhole cover on a quiet street just ten blocks from
Scott’s home.

Drips of water echoed throughout the
cavernous cement walls that lined the sewers. An eerie green light
reflected off the still waters and damp walls. Rats and insects
scurried on select dry paths in search of food and shelter.

Tall Man crouched with his elbows resting on
his knees. Almost completely submerged in shadows, with his long
black coat, and his nose being the only facial feature to capture
light, he resembled a vulture waiting for his prey to breathe its
last so he could feast on the still warm flesh.

Abigail lay beside him in a fetal position,
her thumb in her mouth as she dreamt of having a family.

He had no desire to harm her; she was a mere
tool, an object he cared less about and gave no thought to. He
would use her to achieve his goal, and whatever happens, happens.
Harm may come to her, but it wouldn’t be intentional, nor would it
be an obstacle.

Sure, her innocence and beauty disgusted him,
as it would any demon, but she was not a target. She simply offered
a convenient way to reach the intended target; therefore time and
energy wouldn’t be wasted on destroying her.

Each woke to the sound of the alarm and
looked at one another to be sure they were OK.

For whatever reason, Tall Man hadn’t come for
them that night. It’s possible he would come in the day for a
surprise attack, but not likely. His last two victims that Scott
knew of had been brought down in the late evening or early morning
hours.

Sitting at the table eating breakfast that
consisted of eggs, hash browns, and orange juice, Scott and Ella
discussed their day.

It was the weekend, and Ella didn’t have to
go in to work. Good thing too, because she would have had to call
off. Scott being self employed, would take however much time he
needed.

Typical of two people in mortal danger, they
talked about survival. More studying and prayer was on their
agenda, as was a plan for physical defense. They may have to ward
off violent attacks, and with Scott’s background along with his
firearm, they had something to at least buy some time.

They had both hoped that by praying, the evil
would be dealt with prior to coming after them, and they would
never have to deal with it. This was unlikely, as history showed
that people were often put through great tests of courage,
strength, endurance, and faith before good won over evil. God
working through Moses to free the Israelites from slavery in Egypt
was brought to mind, but there are many examples.

The one thing that brought peace to both
Scott and Ella was that they had done all they could to prepare.
Even if failure should occur, they could both go out knowing they
did their best. This did nothing to suppress the fear, but it
brought a shred of hope nonetheless.

A barely audible knock came from the door.
They looked at each other, both sets of eyes registering concern.
“Do you want to answer it,” Ella whispered.

“I don’t know. Wait here while I look out the
window.”

Scott peeked and at first saw nothing. Then
another knock came, indicating there was someone at the door. He
looked down, and standing at doorknob height was an adorable little
girl. “It’s a child . . . a little girl.”

“What? Really?”

Scott answered the door, “Hello, sweetheart .
. . can I help you?”

She looked up at him with her big blue eyes,
and in a little voice she answered, “Hello, Mister. I’m lost and I
can’t find my home.” Tears glossed over her eyes, and the slightest
sniffle escaped her tiny nose.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t cry. Come on inside and
we’ll help you. OK?”

He guided her in by placing his hand on top
of her head, and then sat her on the couch. Ella came rushing over
and sat by the little girl. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Abigail,” the girl responded. “I’m lost
. . . I don’t know where I am or how to get home.”

“Abigail, that’s a beautiful name,” Ella said
in an attempt to calm the girl. “What’s your last name?”

“Abigail,” she replied.

“That’s your first name. Do you have another
name?”

“I don’t know, I can’t remember.” Abigail
became more upset and it was clear that she was in duress and
needed time to process her feelings.

“Don’t worry about it. You can stay here
until you remember, and we’ll help you find your home.” Scott
decided not to ask any questions until she was ready. Instead,
making her comfortable was paramount. “How about something to eat
and drink? We were just eating and have plenty left over, just for
you.”

Ella smiled at Scott in approval. She grabbed
the girl’s hand and walked her to the table where Scott dished her
up a plate. “You know . . . Scott here is widely known as the best
scrambled egg maker in this state,” Ella told Abigail. “If you
finish all of them, we may be able to buy you an ice-cream cone
later.”

Abigail smiled, nodded her head and said,
“mmmm . . . hmmm!”

After eating and having a chance to settle
in, Ella again attempted to find out a last name, “So . . .
Abigail, any memories pop into your head? I know eating helps me
sometimes.”

“No. I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember your address, phone number,
family?”

With a worried look on her doll like face,
she said, “I’m scared. I don’t remember anything.”

They could see the child had been through
some sort of trauma recently, so they decided to take care of her
and try again tomorrow. Pushing only seemed to clam her up.

“Do you like cartoons?” Scott offered.

“Yes, I think I do.”

“I have Monsters Inc. Have you seen that
one?”

“No, I’m scared of monsters.”

“These aren’t the scary kind, but let me see
what else I have. How about Finding Nemo?”

“The fish one?”

“Yeah, the fish one.” He couldn’t help but
smile when she answered. She had an endearing way about her.

After the movie, they put Abigail down for a
nap. With no idea of how long or how far she had wandered, they
played it safe and focused their attention on giving her rest.

While she slept, they continued going over
their plans for each conceivable scenario. Not allowing the Tall
Man to get close enough to touch them, using the gun if needed, and
retaining enough focus for prayer, were all contained within their
plans.

The little girl added to their fear; she was
now someone they would need to protect should the demon come for
them before returning Abigail to her rightful home. Without knowing
the girl’s full name, they were at a dead end until she could
remember.

Calling the police was an option, but they
couldn’t bring themselves to place her in government custody. They
knew they would be able to provide more comfortable surroundings
until her family could be located. Besides, they now felt a
responsibility for her. It was as if an angel had clipped her wing
and fell into their front yard, and they needed to care for her
during her time of healing before sending her home.

Uninhabited, the Tall Man’s body still
remained crouched in the sewer, awaiting its spirit and helpers to
return.  He had to be present for the final task, and to be
sure the other Demons wouldn’t steal the soul he was after. 
That was the one negative thing about bringing others to assist:
they couldn’t be trusted.  How could they?  They were
pure evil. 

  At Scott’s house, Abigail had long
since woken from her nap, and during that time, she, Scott and Ella
played games and spoke of many things.  Topics of conversation
ranged from butterflies, flowers and ice cream, to unicorns,
princesses and magical kingdoms. 

  Although her sweetness and innocence
shined through, they sensed something was wrong with Abigail but
couldn’t put their finger on it.  They wrote it off as trauma
of some kind.  Regardless, their hearts quickly became
attached to hers.  

  Evening was upon them, and it was time
for Abigail to go to bed.  They brushed her perfectly formed
rows of teeth, cleaned her up, and found a t-shirt and shorts she
could use as makeshift pajamas.  The shorts fit like baggy
pants, and the shirt went nearly to her ankles. 

  They made up a fairy tale story to
lull her to sleep, and just before dozing off, Abigail said, “Thank
you Mr. Abrahamson.”  Moments later, she was asleep, and sleep
made her face so angelic, so perfectly radiant, that both Scott and
Ella had to kiss her on the cheek. 

  They left the room and got themselves
ready for bed.  Once ready, Ella stopped with a furrowed brow
as if in deep thought. 

  “What is it?  Everything
OK?”  Scott asked.

  “Yes—no—it’s just that I don’t
remember you or I telling her your last name.  We only
mentioned our first names.”

  They both paused to think back. 
Maybe she saw the name written somewhere, or maybe they said it in
conversation and forgot about it.  Neither of them could
remember saying the name, and after looking around the house, his
name wasn’t written on anything.

  Puzzled but not overly concerned, they
both went to their separate beds and closed their eyes. 

  Two hours had gone by, and the house
stood painfully quiet.  Like the calm before the storm, there
was something sensed, even in an unconscious state.  Most
likely it was because of a built-up paranoia over waiting for Tall
Man to turn their lives upside down.  Regardless, it made both
Scott and Ella restless. 

  The sound of little feet scampering
across a bare wood floor caught Scott’s attention.  Being a
light sleeper on high alert, he woke up and tried to hone in on the
direction of the noise.  His senses were acute, almost
inhuman.  Survival instincts kicked in and his heart went from
a resting rate to that of someone who just sprinted a hundred
yards. 

  Again, little bare feet scurried about
in the direction of the bathroom. 
Abigail,
he
thought.  Assuming she was just going to use the potty, he lay
back down and closed his eyes; his heart rate quickly lowering to a
normal rate.

  Reticence became him as silence again
filled the air.  It didn’t take long before Scott once again
entered into sleep. 

  He dreamt of Abigail holding his hand
while walking through a field laden with violet wild flowers. 
She whispered to him softly, but he wasn’t able to understand what
she said.  He felt a comfort, a warm sensation, as if she was
an angel guiding him through Heaven’s gates.  He felt as if he
were floating, no longer grounded by the confining body he once
lived. 

  “Scott!”  Ella yelled.

  His eyes were only able to open part
way, as if he were half asleep.  He saw Abigail holding his
hand, like in the dream, and Ella standing behind her screaming out
his name.  He looked again at Abigail; her eyes were rolled
into the back of her head and she was shaking. 

  “Scott!”  The scream from Ella
broke through this time.  It was clear, and he was again
alert. 

  He pulled his hand away from Abigail’s
and sat up staring at her in disbelief. 

  “Scott, she was doing something to
you!  He’s with her!  He has to be!”

  He pulled his gun from under his
pillow.  She snapped out of her induced trance and grinned at
him.  “I almost had you, but as I should have expected, the
little whore got in the way.”  It was a vile man’s voice, no
longer the endearing, beautiful song of a little girl’s innocent
charm shining through. 

  Scott pointed the gun at her, shaking
furiously.  “I can’t—I can’t do it!”