The Open Door and The Visitor, By Noah "Redface" Rodriguez (Part 2)
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This was the mythic "Door". I was amazed, dazzled! But, deep inside, I was also very disturbed. I had but one searing question regarding this technological revelation: "Where did the apple go, Charles?" It was as if I had insulted the machine and Lightstrom's hard work. All the boyish enthusiasm and excitement he possessed moments prior were now gone, just as the ill-fated apple was. Charles sighed deeply and admitted that he did not know. Over tea, he explained to me the origins of his miraculous "Door". Lightstrom, an expert mechanic and Professor of Aviation Science at Oxford, Lightstrom had grown tired of building and teaching about the same steam engines for years. He had learned of, worked with and taught about vehicles for so long that they became something of a petty nuisance to him. He wondered of a reality where one could travel great distances with out the aide of our steamcarriages or dirigibles but simply as one would "travel from one room to the next simply by opening a door and walking in." Eventually, he began to draw up blueprints, consult with some of his colleagues, and, using his own expertise in various scientific disciplines, he began to the "Door" himself, and began testing the machine by sending various inanimate objects through it. He admitted that he was so excited in being successful in sending things out through the "Door" that retrieving them was strictly an afterthought. I'm not as scientifically gifted as Lightstrom was, so I didn't understand most of what Lightstrom told me about the machine's specifics or how it worked, sending particles out through space or what have you, but I was fascinated none the less. It seemed that Lightstrom was on the brink of a technological revolution. Eventually, the conversation moved onto to other topics and the "Door" was left forgotten.
The following two weeks passed without significant event. A week after seeing the machine, I spoke with Lightstrom over the phone and brought up the subject of the "Door". Lightstrom mentioned that he was still "tinkering with it" and quickly moved on. The next week, when I visited his manor again, he did not take me into the cellar to see the "Door", and I did not ask him to, but he did mention in passing that he was finally working on "retrieving the items he had sent through the "Door". Had I known then the horrors such an endeavour would wreak, I would have strongly urged him against it.
Another pair of weeks passed without incident, and I had not spoken with Lightstrom outside of our usual phone correspondence. It was not until towards the end of October, on or near All Hallow's Eve (I forgot, admittedly) that I received an urgent letter from Lightstrom requesting that I stay with him in his manor for a few weeks. At first, I felt it odd that he would have written me instead of phoning. It occurred to me that Lightstrom's only phone remained in his work shoppe in the center but I thought nothing of it. I had been anxious to find an excuse to visit the countryside during harvest time, and was simply glad that I had found it. I packed a few of my things and made my way to Lightstrom's manor.
When Lightstrom greeted me at the door of his estate, his manner was inexplicably queer. His jovial attitude very clearly masked something dire about his mood, as if he had witnessed something horrific and were desperate to conceal it. I asked him what was troubling him and Charles, calm but clearly panicked, said, "Nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all, dear boy. Nothing. Nothing at all." With that, he hurried me to my quarters to prepare for a dinner party at his manor that a few of his colleagues and their wives would be attending. As he pushed me up the stairs, I could have swore that I had heard a series of banging noises emanating from the kitchen, but I said nothing. Later, at the dinner party, the other guests complained also of the banging but Lightstrom made nothing of it, almost refusing to answer their inquiries as to the source.
The next morning, after I had woken and dressed, I was unable to find Charles anywhere so I made my way to the kitchen to fix my own breakfast. I had missed it upon first entering the kitchen but as I was searching for the tea I noticed something off about the door to Lightstorm's work shoppe in the cellar. The door, having never had a locking mechanism, was now heavily bolted and barricaded. It was even padlocked! Curious, I began to unbolt the door when I heard a course, angry voice call my name. It was Lightstrom, who ushered me away from the door and explained simply that the work shoppe was "Now off-limits to guests". Never before in the many, many years that I knew Lightstrom had he ever been unwilling to show someone an invention he was working on, even if for the moment it only existed on paper. Charles Lightstrom delighted in sharing the machinations of his fertile mind with others, which is why it was so surprising that he would do something as seemingly trivial as lock his work shoppe. I asked him why he would do such a thing, but he would not answer. It was only days later, about one week into my stay in the Lightstrom manor that I knew why Charles barred the door so heavily. As I was walking through the manor one afternoon I noticed all of Lightstrom's servants; his maids, his butlers, cooks, even the Gardner; standing in the kitchen I pushed through the throng of people and to see what precisely they were all staring at. Lightstrom, at the head of the group looked as though his worst nightmare had been realized. There was the cellar door, forced open and hanging gingerly on its hinges. It was almost as if someone, from the other side had slammed themselves into the door violently to force it open in such a way. Lightstrom was keeping something locked in the cellar, and now it was loose in his manor.
After that, Lightstrom's entire staff angrily tendered their resignation. As much as he begged, they refused to stay, not matter how much he offered to raise their pay. They did not want to be in a house where such awful secrets were being kept and frankly, Constable, I could not blame them. After the last servant left, I sat Lightstrom down and had him tell me everything. Lightstrom told me everything, but mostly what I could understand was that while experimenting with going from point A to point B and back to point A again, something unexpected happened. "I left the 'Door' open", Lightstrom said. I had no idea what he meant by that, but apparently, someone, something had found a way to walk through the "Door" into Lightstrom's work shoppe. "I have opened the "Door"! Thrown it wide open!" explained Lightstrom, his voice trembling, "I've opened it to a new world! A whole menagerie of worlds! Worlds that only existed in nightmares! And something from one of those nightmare worlds stepped through the 'Door'!" At that point, I was convinced that Lightstrom was speaking nothing but madness, and had announced that like the servants before me, I would not stay in a house that was clearly unsafe. However, unlike the servants, I could not resist Lightstrom's pleading. Here was a man who had been a great friend and ally to me, wrapped around my feet and crying like a child. I acquiesced. and told him I would stay for one more night. Lightstrom was thrilled, and I announced that I would go to my room to sleep, and in the morning I would pack my things and leave. Before I went upstairs, Lightstrom handed me something, a handgun, and advised me to lock the bedroom door. Hesitantly, I took the gun, went to my quarters, and locked my door. That was the last time I saw Lightstrom alive.
