by Heath, Joel
Demon Gate:
Beyond the 9thCircle
By Joel Heath
Looking Back I remember the day the first portal opened. It happened the day after millions of people inexplicably vanished around the world. Nobody knew what was going on. Most thought it was the rapture and that the wrath of God would soon be upon us. There wasn’t any other way to describe the chaos and panic that hit like a bolt of lightning.
Where was I? Oh, yeah, the portals. The first one opened in New York City; they never saw it coming. Nobody could have predicted what would emerge from it, or the destruction and immeasurable loss of life it would cause. Things went from bad to worse; from alarm and wonder to abject fear and panic. An explosion was rumored to have devastated Times Square and most of Manhattan and other portals were reported in cities across the eastern seaboard and beyond.
And that was only the beginning. Within moments, the streets of New York City became a graveyard. I barely escaped New Jersey with my life, leaving Newark just before a portal opened there. I was one of the lucky few. Billions died that day.
I was just running blindly – trying to stay ahead of the slaughter. It wasn’t until I got to Las Vegas that I realized the terrible truth. The armies of hell had just started a war with us, and they were winning. We were outmatched and vastly outnumbered. Only a miracle could save us.
My story began a long time ago, in April of 2022. Rain fell over the city that never sleeps while lightning made a futile attempt to light up the ever darkening sky. An ominous feeling settled over the city like a dark fog, growing thicker by the second. The usual assortment of sounds and smells assaulted each New Yorker as they went about their business.
Yet the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple appeared oddly slow in Times Square. That’s when it began, starting as a small point like a minute black hole. The dark spot quickly expanded, the size of a beach ball, growing larger. The dark sphere emitted a tormenting, almost malevolent aura as it hovered six feet off the ground. It fed on the gloom, quickly overtaking the city, sapping it of what little good was left.
Chapter 1 – The Incursion Spencer Garza pulled up to a house with a poorly maintained lawn. Rain had been coming down hard most of the night and well into the morning. The neglected yard looked drowned, it had given up.
Spencer stepped out of his jet black 1972 Pontiac GTO, scanning the surroundings as he closed the car door. It was a modest home, old but sturdy, and only one story tall. The outside boasted mostly red bricks with a few tan ones patched in, indicating minor repairs here and there. Spencer’s friend, Eric, lived here with his grandparents. He slowly climbed the three wide stone steps leading up to the porch and a security screened door, which was usually locked after sunset. The floorboards creaked as he stepped onto the front porch. Spencer reached up and pressed the doorbell hard.
The falling rain pelted Spencer. It was not going to let up. He pulled the zipper of
his leather jacket up to his chin.
Spencer was twenty years old. He came from a Latin American family. He had a muscular physique and stood just under six feet tall. He was handsome enough that in his teens he had been offered a modeling contract. He had passed, his macho Latin roots rebelling at the idea. Working with his hands gave him the feeling of being strong and in control. Spencer used his good looks in other ways, but made his living from good old hard work.
His father was Guatemalan, and had not gone in for hard work. Spencer learned well when his father was set up by higher executives and framed for an embezzlement crime he didn’t commit. Arrested on circumstantial evidence and witnessed against by the real crooks, Mr. Garza was later acquitted but the damage had been done to his job and reputation. The family relocated to Florida and started over again with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Young Spencer was determined to never be caught in that sleazy world and he would earn and live by his own labor.
Spencer’s mother had been a nurse who went to Los Angeles to help with a triage unit in 2012, only to be gunned down in cold blood while treating a gunshot victim in the middle of the street one night. The police determined it to be another case of gang violence, a group getting rid of another Latino they believed was illegally entering the country. The strain of that on top of his ruined reputation was more than Mr. Garza could take. He died from a heart attack mere months after his wife’s death.
That was when Spencer moved up to New Jersey for work. He made few but good friends, and Eric was one of these.
“Spencer!” an old woman shouted from inside the door. Eunice Fredricks was born at the trailing edge of the great depression and was approaching eighty as evidenced by her silvery hair and a face cloaked in wrinkles. “What are you doing here so late?” Eunice asked as she unlocked the screen and opened it.
“I’m looking for Eric.”
“I’m sorry, but my grandson isn’t here,” Eunice replied. Her demeanor appeared agitated and she had bags under her eyes from sleep deprivation and tears.
“Did he disappear too?” Spencer asked, stomach dropping, recalling frantic screams from several people in his neighborhood the night before.
“No. Eric went to the city, looking for work.”
“Oh, alright,” Spencer responded in relief, but her reddened eyes seemed to say more than she was letting out. “And how is your husband?”
Spencer had only heard a vague account of Mr. Fredrick’s departure, and figured the guy probably skipped town. It was just politeness to inquire and show some concern. Eunice stepped out onto the porch, keeping one hand on the screen door to hold it slightly ajar. She glanced at Spencer’s old-fashioned vehicle and used it to deflect not only his question, but the fear and the concern it dredged up.
“That’s quite a car. My oldest son had one before he died.”
“Thanks,” Spencer replied, elated, charged at any chance to brag on his vehicle. “I’ve had a few special parts custom made for this beauty. I turned her into a gas/electric hybrid. She’s more fuel efficient than anything else on the road. I could go twenty-five hundred miles on a single tank,” Spencer boasted
The old woman briefly looked back inside, then back to Spencer.
“But, Mrs. Fredricks, you’re dodging my question.” Spencer gulped, knowing full well that he may have overstepped his bounds. “So, where did your husband go? Is something wrong?”
Eunice grimaced as she hung her head, and her hands came up to her face and caught the unstoppable tears.
“He’s gone,” Eunice confessed, hesitantly meeting Spencer’s gaze.
“What do you mean?”
Eunice shook her head with agony. “He just disappeared. He was right in front of me, and he just disappeared.”
Eunice started to weep again and Spencer took her in his arms. What was he supposed to say?I’m sorry your husband vanished? Eunice pushed back, and wiped most of the tears away and changed the subject. Her husband’s
disappearance was as painful a subject as it was disconcerting. She didn’t know what to make of it, if he had gone to heaven or hell and why she wasn’t taken with him.
“So, how’s work?” Eunice asked at length. “Are you still working at that garage across town?”
“No, they cut their labor. As it turns out, the foreman was skimming money from the budget. They’ll probably shut it down to do a full review,” Spencer guessed. “I heard they’re just going to close up shop and pocket the insurance money.”
“So sad,” Eunice mourned. “You only came to town a month ago with that job offer, and you already have to start looking for a new
one.”
“Sounds like the horror stories my dad used to tell me before he died,” Spencer quipped.
“You don’t you have any family that can help you, do you?” Eunice asked.
“No,” Spencer replied, “I never had any siblings, and my parents both died a few years ago. I don’t even have a girlfriend. No time.”
Rain pelted off Spencer’s skin and neatly trimmed hair as the woman peeked back into her home, and Spencer suddenly realized she was checking the television.
“Excuse me, my show is back on,”
Eunice said and disappeared inside the
house.
Spencer nodded then returned to his GTO. He had scarcely opened the driver’s side door when he heard Eunice exclaim, “I don’t believe this!” Concern drove him back to Eunice’s front door.
“Mrs. Fredricks?” Spencer called out.
After a few moments Eunice came to the door. “Spencer, you’re not going to believe this. They’ve blocked off Times Square.”
“Who’s blocked off Times Square?” Spencer asked, only to have Eunice drag him inside and point at the television.
“If you’re just joining us,” the on screen reporter announced, “the President’s visit to the Big Apple has been marred by some strange occurrence. Apparently, millions of
disappearances were reported last night and earlier this morning. Also, there is military activity right here in Times Square. The armed forces have cordoned off the area.”
The camera focused on what looked like a black ball hovering above the ground. “This strange phenomenon appeared overnight, but has shown little apparent change since its reported formation. Officials have released a statement indicating the anomaly has been and is still growing. Right now, there are no speculations about its purpose or origin, but they are not taking any chances. Air Force One is prepared to evacuate the President from LaGuardia at any sign of trouble, though officials don’t expect any change to be hazardous as yet.
“Wait, something is happening!” the reporter exclaimed as the strange black orb began to drastically grow, expanding exponentially before touching the ground and changing from its round form.
“Are you getting this feed in the studio?” the reporter gasped. “It looks like the orb has opened into a large gateway.”
“I wonder if the military will send something inside,” A reporter in the studio commented.
“At this point I’m not sure what it is, and I doubt the military is either...”
The report went on, but Spencer’s attention was interrupted as Eric, breathing heavily, ran up the steps and into the house. The door screeched and shut with a bang.
“Grandma, did you see what’s going on across the river?” Eric asked.
Spencer pointed at the screen and said, “We’re watching it right now.”
Eric stared at the television. “It’s freaky,” he gulped. “I heard the military is going to try and send an unmanned drone through tomorrow,” Eric explained.
Spencer rolled his eyes and disregarded this as a rumor. Despite his skepticism there was a gnawing feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. At length he asked, “Where did you hear that?”
“I was there an hour ago and I overheard one of the soldiers say it.”
“Well, I don’t want you going over there until they get this thing sorted out,”
Eunice commanded, turning up the volume on the television.
Eric headed for the door but Spencer stopped him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Spencer demanded.
Eric turned back and faced Spencer. “I’m going back,” he grumped in a whisper. “I want to get a better look at it.”
“Are you insane?” Spencer chided, whispering as well. “God only knows what that thing is. You should listen to your grandma.”
Eric was quick to counter, “I’ll be fine. Just don’t tell her.”
Spencer threw up his hands. “You want me to lie to the human lie-detector?”
“No, just don’t tell her everything,” Eric suggested. “You can do it; you’re the best damn poker player I’ve ever met.”
“Winning a couple of poker tournaments doesn’t make me the best.”
“A couple of tournaments, are you kidding? You took down Shawn Devlin, the number one ranked poker player in the world.”
“Eric, something about this doesn’t feel right,” Spencer urged, trying to focus his friend on the crisis.
“You’re just being paranoid,” Eric dismissed him.
“What about that time last week?” Spencer offered. “Or last month when your dad—”
“Okay, I get your point!” Eric conceded, but was not willing to give Spencer the full victory. “You have a great track record…of lucky guesses.”
“Well, are you still going to rush into that danger zone?” Spencer demanded.
“No,” Eric groaned.
Spencer nodded and left, but he figured that Eric would go anyway, and something would go wrong. Then he would get to tell Eric ‘I told you so’ one more time. Spencer shrugged, knowing there was nothing else he could say and headed to his own home several blocks away.
The feeling of unease in his stomach intensified as Spencer walked into his own living room. Trying to ignore it, he dropped his keys onto the mantle of the large fireplace, and looked at the wall above it, where a picture of his parents hung.
“Well, Mom and Dad,” he sighed, “I’m home.”
Everybody always told him that he looked like his father, but it was only in the last year that Spencer really noticed it. His parents had been dead only a few years, but he still missed them. A tear of mourning trickled down his check, which he quickly wiped away. He pushed the memories of them out of his head. Push the feelings down and deal with them later, that was how he dealt with loss and loneliness.
Sitting down on his own couch, he couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that gripped him. He felt almost panicked, like when he was in trouble and his father was about to discipline him. It intensified and soon he felt the urge to vomit. It was almost as though he were receiving a warning of something sinister getting closer and there was nothing he could do. So he decided to try and get his mind off of the strangeness of the day’s events by flipping on the television. The only programs running were news coverage and dramatic animations about the black object on every channel.
Great, everything I do puts this thing back in my head. It feels like I’m having a panic attack.
Spencer glanced at the clock on the wall beside the door, just in time to see it tick its last tock. The clock stopped at 6:49 pm, only a few minutes before sunset. He cocked his head and stared when he noticed it wasn’t moving …
The front door abruptly swung open, and Spencer scrambled to his feet to close it. But as he reached the door he saw something that he did not expect, stunning him momentarily with stark confusion. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people from all walks of life, faiths and professions gathered at his door. They were just standing on his lawn, staring at him as if waiting for him to give a speech or tell them what to do. Each face was blankly staring; no expression or hint of emotion. They stood like automatons as though they were dead. Spencer stepped outside and walked down an avenue of people until they surrounded him and he just couldn’t continue. He had no idea why he had walked into them, he just did it.
They seemed to flock to him. He wanted to ask them why they were there, but the words just wouldn’t come out.
Then a voice filled Spencer’s ears. The sound of the voice made Spencer cringe a little and his eyes flashed around with suspicion and fear.
“You need to leave,” it succinctly urged.
“Leave?” Spencer queried “But, this is my home.”
“Something terribly evil is about to arrive,” the voice continued, conveying a level of urgency. “You need to leave the city.”
Spencer stared at the people that stood around him, and his concern mounted. “What about them
?”
Silence hung in the air for a long moment, before the voice spoke again.
“They’re already dead.”
To Spencer’s horror, every single person that had been surrounding him was now lying dead on the ground like snowflakes. Each one was different from the next and it looked as though their deaths were instantaneous. Their bodies were arranged one atop another like dominoes. Blood leaked from their eyes, ears, mouths and noses. Color had drained from their horror filled faces and this all added to the feeling that whatever had happened to them had happened fast. Suddenly, flies appeared, buzzing around the numberless corpses.
Spencer heard a knock. His brow crinkled in confusion as he searched for the source of the sound. Before he had located it, a second knock reached his ears, and he still couldn’t determine its source, finally he heard a doorbell. It was his doorbell!
Spencer awoke to realize he had fallen asleep on the couch. It was morning. The television stared at him, empty and black. Spencer reached for the remote out of pure habit. He flipped the television on to help rouse himself before climbing to his feet to check the door.
It was his neighbor, Steve, who always came to borrow, but never came to return. Steve’s head looked like an upside down triangle sporting rat-like teeth.
“What is it now, Steve?”
“Hey, neighbor. I was wondering if I could borrow that lawnmower of yours, just for this morning.”
Spencer wiped the crust out of his eyes and sighed. “Like the chainsaw you borrowed for a couple of hours last month? The one you still have yet to return?”
Steve smiled. “Dude, I told you, it was stolen last week when my house was broken into. I’ll start paying you back for it, next paycheck.”
“Okay, that explains it,” Spencer conceded, and Steve looked relieved that the discussion on the chainsaw was over.
“But why were you using an identical chainsaw two days ago?” Spencer shot out at him; he couldn’t resist playing the guy. “Did the thief return it, and then steal it again?” The smile vanished from Steve’s face.
“I thought so,” Spencer said before pushing the door closed in Steve’s face.