The Lurker at the Threshold : A Horror Mystery by Brandon Berntson (books under 200 pages .txt) 📗

mist pulled back, revealing what could only be a doorway, a rectangular black space filled with stars and night sky.  A silvery red protean light flashed and turned blue.  The sound of what appeared to be a thousand insects deafened the alley.

“I am the Keeper of the Gate!  The Lurker at the Threshold.  My name is Gomory!  You have opened the First Gate!  The Old Ones thank you!”

The voice was a deep, unholy, diabolical intonation.  The hound bayed again a few blocks over.  Macky’s blood ran cold.  From deep inside the portal, a miasma of liquid churned like a black hole in space.  Wind blew.  A shadow darkened the air above them, something with wings that came from the other side of the portal, a hellion flock of night creatures.  It took Macky a second before he realized it was a million bats rising into the sky above Innsport.

Chapter 6

“I may have made a terrible mistake,” Macky said.  “And for that, I apologize.”

“There’s an understatement for the ages,” Duke said.

They were back at the office, all of them breathing heavily.  Especially Duke.

“You said Capshaw was working on it?” Duke asked.

Macky nodded.  “I got the book to him today.  It could be a while before he finds out anything, though.”

“And there’s a hound in the city, along with what appears to be a thousand bats, and who knows whatever else might be coming out of that portal,” Newt said.  “Or is still coming out of that portal.  From the sound of Gomory, it might be the first.  We have to assume there’s going to be others.”

“What do we do now?” Millie said.

“I’ll do some snooping,” Macky said.  “You guys go home, get some prowl boys out to patrol the city.  See if you can find out any more about this dog.  Keep yourself loaded and safe.  I need to look into some things.   Who this Gomory character is.  Capshaw might know, and what these gates are all about.”

“Are you sure that’s safe on your own?” Newt said.

“I agree,” Millie said.

“I’m not sure we have a choice.  There are things loose in the city.  We have to assume the worst.  First thing is people’s safety.  I’ll get in touch with you, and let you know what I find.”

“Sorry about all this, Dev,” Newt said.  “We know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

Macky nodded.  “I appreciate it, Newt, if you’re trying to soften the blow, but I’ll figure something out.”

Duke and Newt tipped their hands and left.  The door closed behind them.

Millie looked at Macky.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.  Grab your purse.  And your jacket.  I’ll take you home.”

—

“You gonna be okay, Dev?” Millie asked, her hand on the door handle of the coupe.

He nodded.  “Of course.  Just stay inside, keep the doors locked, have fun with Mr. Kalabraise, and take good care of the plants.”

“You make it sound so . . . unproblematic.”

“I’m trying to keep it light, Mill.”

She nodded and opened the door.  She shut it, walked up the steps, and turned and waved before going inside.  Macky waved back and pulled away from the curb.

—

“Now then,” he said, driving back to the office.  “Let’s see what evil lurks in the hearts of men.  Or in this case, Innsport.”

He was trying to make light of the situation.  That was true.  The only way in which he knew how to deal with it.  He didn’t feel comfortable investigating with Duke and Newt around, and he felt better knowing Millie was safe at home.  She had the gun.  Hopefully, it would be enough.

He parked in front of the building and got out.  He hurried up the stairs, into the office, grabbed the flashlight from the desk drawer, headed back downstairs, and into the alley behind the building.

It was getting late.  Lights were on.  Windows were open, but it was quiet.  The noisy commute had quieted.  A cool autumn wind blew through the alley.  The smell of dead leaves was in the air.

He stepped through the alleyway and around puddles of water.

It was quiet except for a light sprinkle pinging off the fire escape.  More glowing orbs were coming to life, a bluish-green incandescence appearing like a slowly, opening eye.  One was by the dumpster.  Another was behind him to his right.  They were different sizes, all of them.  Were they growing?

Gomory was the gate.  Perhaps Gomory was the name of the gate.  Or maybe it was a monster let loose from the other side.  The Old Ones.  He would have to ask Capshaw when he saw him again.

Macky moved deeper into the alley, panning the flashlight back and forth.  Cold wind blew.  Rain fell.  The flutter of wings sounded.  He looked up, unable to see anything but the clouds.  The fire escape creaked.  Something heavy settled onto it.  It was too dark to see.  He shined the flashlight, but the beam was too weak.

His eyes adjusted to the dark.  Something was there.  The bulk of a shape.  A head turned and looked at him.

A low growl sounded behind him.  He whirled around and shined the flashlight.

Nails scraped the pavement.

The smell was growing again, that tarry sort-of stickiness.  Macky held his breath.  His heart hammered in his chest.  His throat was dry.

Crickets chirped.  The sound grew.  Within seconds, it sounded like a thousand insects.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

He shined the flashlight on the fire escape, but he couldn’t see anything.  Had it moved?  A gust of wind touched his face, a giant wing flapping in his face.

The insect noise was louder.

The Old Ones thank you. 

Who were the Old Ones?  And what did they want?

You have opened the first gate . . .

How did he prevent a second gate from opening?  How did he know where it