Do Not Enter, Part 3

“Crawford put a sign on it! A ssssssiiiiiiiiiign, right? Right? You seen it! The sign! ‘Do Not Enter’, it ssssssaaaaaayyyyysssss, right? Right missy? Right, missy Rose?”

Her heart slammed to a halt. “How … how did you know–?”

“Heard the voices yet, missy? Heard ‘em screamin’? You can hear ‘em in torment! Voices from Hell screamin’ for mercy, for relief! Heard ‘em yet, Missy Rose? Heard the voiceeeeeeessssss?”

“Leave me alone!” Rose turned to round the car, get in, drive away, leave, never come back. The old man moved across the cracked and pitted asphalt toward her, on his belly, his hands slithering out toward her, drawing him nearer.

“You can hear ‘em sssssssssssscreeeeeeeeeeeammmmm, Missy Rose! I heard ‘em too! Me an’ Crawford heard ‘em, back in ‘63! Heard ‘em sssscreeeeaam, we did, mmmmmoooooooooanin’ and waaaaaaaiilin’ for help for their souls, Missy Rose, their very sssssssssssooooooulllls!”

“Leave me alone, damn you!” Rose shrieked but couldn’t move, couldn’t make herself open the door, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pus-crusted, yellow orbs shot through with red, couldn’t make herself shut her eyes, even, or step to the side.

“Hell’s door is in there, Miiiiisssssssssy Roooossssssse, and you bought it! It’ssss your door, now! Crawford couldn’t hide it! They came for him! I heard him sscreeeeeam when they took him! The door opened and they pulled him down into Hell and I heard him ssssssscreeeeeeeamin’ like the others, Missy Roooooossssse, I heard him and hear him to thiiiiiiiisssss day!”

Rose sank to her haunches, the blood and strength draining from her like water in an unstopped tub. She shook her head and put her hands to her cheeks, and screamed, throat shredding, ear drum rattling screams.

When her breath gave out and she looked up, there was no one there. She was alone in the parking lot, sitting against her car.

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