Topic: The Making of a Monster

Liam Moyer

Date: 2018-02-10 15:28 EST
Liam didn't understand what was going on. At the tender age of nine he rarely understood these grown up events he was forced to attend. This gala, that party. All he knew was that he was wrangled into a suit and tie, and expected to be seen and not heard. Except there was something different about this and it caused a tangle of anxiety to form in the pit of his stomach.

The adults were gathered in tiny clumps and there was an odd hush in the room. Usually the ballroom of the Moyer's sprawling estate was filled with tables, talking, laughter. The room felt huge and barren while the family clung to the walls and avoided looking at Liam. And the door in the center of the room.

It was the only furnishing present and it made the least amount of sense to him. He'd seen it before, in the mausoleum tucked away in a corner of the property, where it normally resided. Every year his parents would take him down there with flowers to honor the dead. That was something he didn't really understand at all until one of his classmates had passed in an accident the year before. Death was a tough thing for kids to grasp.

He knew this door was his great-great grandfather's grave. Or that was how he understood it. Why did everyone else get caskets and tombs" Why a door" A big, heavy, ebony wood door, ornately carved with scrolls and flames. Liam's father had asked him the year before what he thought of the door. There was something sad about it, he thought, though at eight he could only express that it made him want to cry. His father had been pleased with this answer.

No one would tell him what all of this was about. He had given up trying to ask the night before when his father cracked him across the mouth. His lip was split and swollen. He had wanted to go to school to be with his friends. There was going to be a solar eclipse and the school had gotten special viewers so they could watch. The ballroom's tall windows afforded a beautiful view of the scenery, and he could see the sun, but he knew he wasn't supposed to look straight at it. So he watched the rays of light that had been slowly creeping up the door. A hand on his shoulder startled him.

"It's time." His father's booming voice shattered the silence. Brennan Moyer commanded the room's attention, but for some reason, everyone was looking at his son. Liam squirmed under the weight of all those eyes.

"What's going on?" Liam's question earned him a hard squeeze on his shoulder, but surprisingly he also got an answer.

As the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the moon, the door swung open. How it did, when it had no frame, no hinges, and no handle was a mystery. So was the room that somehow lay beyond, where no room should have been able to exist. A stone corridor, to be precise, lit with flaming sconces of all things. Liam could feel a terrible heat wafting out.

"You're going to meet your great, great grandfather."

Liam Moyer

Date: 2018-02-18 14:27 EST
Liam didn't want to go in.

He was trembling with fear. The pressure of his father's hand on his shoulder wasn't there to reassure him. It was to direct him through the opening that hung before them. A yawning chasm into a world he didn't know or understand. How was this even possible" Things like Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, the Easter bunny....He'd never been lead to believe in such things. His parents had been quick to disabuse him of such childish notions from the very first time he'd heard them. Looking around at all of the watching faces with expressions of awe and expectation, and far less disbelief, he wondered how this could be real.

"Come, Liam. There isn't much time." His father's voice was stern. Liam could hear the note of disapproval. Be strong. Never show weakness. He couldn't help the quaver in his steps as he made his way towards the doorway. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him not to go in. This was a bad place. It was a good thing there had been no food at this party, because his stomach was twisted up into such knots that he was afraid he might empty it. Had it not been for his father's strong grip on his shoulder he would not have walked into that corridor.

It was unbearably hot inside. Liam felt like he was roasting inside his suit. The air was so hot he was sure his lungs were burning. His father didn't seem to be bothered, though he could see a line of sweat beading on the older man's forehead when he risked a look. In that same move he also looked behind him to make sure the doorway was still there. That it was made him feel a small sense of relief.

The corridor was straight, featureless except for the sconces lighting the way, but as they neared the end he could see a turn and a blaze of light. Like there was a great big, roaring fire just ahead. Each step that brought them closer felt heavier. Probably in part due to the cloying air.

"Papa," it'd been ages since Liam had used anything but 'father'. "Where are we" What is this?" He wasn't sure he wanted answers to these questions. He wanted to run, but the grip on his shoulder had gotten tighter. He'd be bruised tomorrow, for sure.

No answers came. Maybe his father couldn't speak. It'd been hard enough for him to choke those few words out. Now they had reached the turn and the dread swelled within him. He pressed his hands to his stomach and tried to force the sick from coming out. When they turned the corner to enter the great big chamber, shock made him forget his sickness.

In the center of the room there was a cage and it was on fire. Liam hadn't noticed the cage at first, as the blaze was so bright and consuming, he hadn't been able to make out the bars at first. Between the licks of flame he saw the sharp gleam of black. It was too hot for him to look, so he started to turn away. His father stopped him.

"No, Liam. Look into the flames. Look, damn you." If it wasn't the harsh worse it was certainly the sharp shake that his father gave him that had his head slowly turning to stare at the cage once more. It was like the fire knew he was looking now and for a moment it calmed. For a moment he could see a figure, a man, standing at the very center of the cage. He could just barely make out the heavy chains clasping the man at his wrists, as if the cage wasn't enough.

Liam squinted to try and get a better look at the man's face. It looked familiar, he thought. But other than noticing the man's eyes were closed, he couldn't see much for sure. When he tried to take a step closer, this time his father's grip was to hold him back. "You cannot step past the circle," his father said, pointing at the ground. He hadn't noticed that the brick beneath their feet was carved with an intricate pattern. Letters of some sort, like those carved on the door.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye. Another entrance to the door he hadn't noticed there. Standing in another circle like him as his father was a man and a boy about his age. "Who is that?"