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."
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."