Rain and terror

After successfully delivering his last parcel, Edward Winters felt a bit more confident about the job, because of how tightly knit the streets were in the capital his employers focused solely on foot or bike-based delivery, taking advantage of the plentiful sidewalks and alleyways.

At first, he was a bit confused why they stressed the point so much but he vaguely understood after nearly being late to his first stop, sticking to the roads took too much time even in the bike lane. By the end of his shift, he had already completely abandoned the roads.

It had started to spit, lightly at first and not a problem but as it got heavier he knew the cardboard boxes wouldn't survive much longer, as the company skimped out on the box carrying all the parcels. An alleyway appeared on his left which he quickly ducked into, it was a dead end, bins lined one of the walls along with other abandoned rubbish at the end of the alley.

Then it appeared, not really appeared but more it was only while staring at the rubbish did he realise it was there, a wooden door with a weathered sign sat above it. It was lacking any sort of decoration making it look like some abandoned wood lay against a wall from a distance, it was even left slightly ajar.

No matter how weathered or abandoned it looked, it'd still serve as shelter so while parking his bike outside, he entered the store with his company's parcel box and shut the door behind him. He vaguely felt a queer sensation but wrote it off as the temperature difference.

'Why'd they have such a thick door?' It was only a guess but the door was deceptively heavier than it appeared and the sound of rain completely vanished when it was shut. The place didn't feel abandoned, the lights were on and the air wasn't stale but smelt fresh in a way, almost like he was standing in a forest and not a building in a city.

The floorboards were made of oak yet didn't give the feeling of a processed item but that they grew in such a fashion, roots grew from the floor at the base of the walls as they climbed up them and collectively covered the ceiling, occasionally roots dangled down holding steel lanterns in their grasps.

Earthy green sofas paired with coffee tables dotted the room, along with both square and circular tables surrounded by chairs appearing too, causing the furniture to seem placed at random, with a closer inspection showing that the base of all the furniture was connected to the floor by roots spare the chairs. Opposite the doorway lay a counter, and around it lay stools with cushions, behind the counter sat an ordinary door as well as a reclining chair and a footstool.

By now the weirdness of the situation had reached its peak, the place was spacious and had plenty of furniture which looked custom-made, 'There is no way someone would spend so much money on such an out-of-a-way place, the alley is next to a sidestreet as well.' The lack of noise made the place eerie but the soft light made it feel inviting in a way, it lacked the harshness of light bulbs, more akin to a candle but with no flickering.

It had yet to occur to him that the building that was bigger than most cafes couldn't have fit behind the alley's wall.

Even in such a situation, it only felt weird. "Is anyone in?" He spoke while wandering to a table, his box wasn't light after all causing his arms to ache, there was no response from anyone and unless they were hiding behind the furniture, they could only be behind the other door.

Inspecting the table he couldn't throw the feeling that the table legs grew out of the floor, they didn't give the feeling of something carved then bolted to the floor, the entire room and its furniture felt connected, one entire being surrounding him. Touching the table felt more like touching a tree stripped of its bark, it didn't feel processed like normal wood, it still felt alive.

Moving towards the counter, he ran his hand along one of the sofas, it was soft and had a slight give to it, 'This many fabric sofas when it's off the beaten track?' Curiosity pushed him forward as fear slowly start to swim between his thoughts, 'No normal person would throw away so much money.'

Standing before the counter, he noticed a sign grown on the right side, the words on it weren't painted on but carved, he couldn't recall the name of the language but the meaning behind them somehow jumped into his mind.

The rules of the Gateway are as follows.

1. All parties involved in a trade must be willing participants.

2. Violence towards other customers or the Peddler is forbidden.

'Maybe a cult?' The word Peddler seemed to linger in his vision even after looking away, his fear had stopped swimming around and started to grip his thoughts and slowly infect them, and the door in front of him felt like it towered over him.

The only thing fighting against his instinct to turn back was his curiosity, everyone wanted something interesting to happen to them, something to break up their repeating days or to brag about to others. Like the furniture, the handle was wooden too but the door was light compared to the front door, it felt a normal weight for a door.

Behind the door lay an odd room, at first glance, it appeared like a warehouse with four rows of shelves reaching the ceiling on the left but right from the door was what looked like a bedroom and a study, a green double bed along with an end table and a dresser, along with a mirror, desk set with draws and a swivel chair.

The lantern on the end table and the desk were just like the lanterns on the ceiling, grown and lifted by roots. The bed looked clean and made, nowhere in sight was a person or another door. If Edward had been at his best, he would have noticed the lack of light switches and plug sockets in the building.

He hadn't realised when but he was standing in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him. He was as pale as his surname suggested, possibly where it originated from, his frame was lean with little obvious muscle or fat to speak of, with his height being average and his eyes a murky green, his only unusual characteristic was his freckles and ginger hair which sat in a ponytail.

But today there was another unusual thing and as he turned his body it came fully into view, roots had drilled into his back, they grew from the floorboards and twisted together before separating, spreading and digging into his entire back. His groggy brain was struck by lightning at the sight, as thunder blasted all his thoughts away, before he passed out.

His body hung from the roots, just like lanterns did, fully supporting his now limp body and frail mind. They slowly moved towards the bed, new ones growing to replace the to far away to reach him, the repeated growing and withering of roots was perfectly timed to keep an even amount attached to him at all times, they caused no pain as they moved him onto the bed and placed him down.

They had all left his body and retreated back into the floor, the room had returned to its previous stillness with the exception of his chest rising and falling as he slept, the lanterns odd light had slowly dimmed and vanished.

The door in the alleyway had long disappeared, as soon as it had been closed in fact, what sat there was now just rubbish as it should have been.

Edward didn't dream that night, he just opened his eyes and he was in bed. Just looking at the ceiling dashed all delusions that what happened was a nightmare, just a creation of his mind.

Panic flooded his system as he bolted towards the door, looking behind him showed no roots drilling into his body yet he oddly still felt connected to the floor, the building around him. The door swung open as he approached, as did the hatch on the counter with lifted itself as he ran towards the front door.

Furniture which was in his way shuffled out the way, the roots moving them like it had moved his body the night before, before moving back in place when he passed. His had tunnel vision and his terror at the situation kept these oddities from his mind, his sole thought occupying his mind was the door in front of him.

The door wasn't embedded into the wall but instead seemed to be kept standing by the roots around it, on its body was carved a tree spanning its entire length, with so many overlapping branches it felt like there was more every time you looked.

The handle didn't turn, it felt less like a door with moving parts but more like a piece of wood carved into the shape of a door, no amount of tugging and pushing moved the handle an inch. All around him the soft light from the lanterns had long reappeared, exactly around the moment he opened his eyes.

As he panicked, he noticed an odd sensation, even without looking he could see a mental image of everything within the building and by focusing he could see his sorry figure tugging at the handle. The building no longer gave the impression that it was a living being surrounding him, it no longer felt like another being, it was no longer foreign to him.

Every piece of furniture felt as connected to him as his arms did, the floor and walls as real as the skin which blanketed his body. This time he didn't use his arms to pull on the handle, he twisted the handle as one would curl their finger, naturally and seamlessly.

The door didn't open as he wished but he could feel the difference, it now felt like a door with another side to it, not like a piece of wood. He knew in his mind he lacked the power to open the door yet he tried anyway, a small part of his mind was still revelling in panic, but the rest was stable and unyielding.

As he calmed, he realised just as his body was no longer just his arms and legs, his mind was no longer just his brain, it felt bigger and steadier. During his panic, he hadn't realised it but while his human body and mind had panicked and tried to open the door, the rest had subconsciously acted to aid his panicked sprint.

This realisation caused him to calm, as while a small part of his mind calmed, the rest was thinking and feeling as normal, replacing the irrational thought with rational. It felt weird and was worrying, and if he had ever thought of such a situation he would have said he'd scream and panic.

But he wasn't, as just as a little spark could be stifled by a gust of wind, any time panic surfaced was eroded by the abundant calm, as the rest of his mind saw no reason to panic as this was its normal state of existence.

He had wandered to the chair behind the counter while lost in thought, his feet resting on the footstool as the counters hatched and the door to the warehouse closed on their own. The repeated switch between panic and calm had tired his mind, as no matter how much he panicked he eventually was calmed and then started to panic again.

This cycle lasted an entire hour until he stood up and looked around, his eyes clear and his mind calm.