one morning, when he woke up and looked out the window, he realized the streets were completely empty. there were no birds, no people. the air was strangely warm, and the sky was a dark shade of orange. when he opened his door, the world outside felt… altered. the trees moved like giant shadows, and the buildings seemed to lean, as if preparing to go somewhere. something was wrong, but there was no sign of what it could be. until he saw that black door standing still in the middle of the street. above it, there was a single inscription: ‘once you enter, you cannot return.’
avery bennett/canada
he stood frozen, staring at the door. it was unlike anything he had ever seen—its surface impossibly smooth, reflecting the orange sky like a dark mirror. the air around it seemed to hum faintly, a low, almost imperceptible vibration that made his skin crawl. he glanced around, as if expecting someone—anyone—to appear and explain what was happening. but the streets remained eerily silent, the only sound the faint rustling of shadowy trees.
curiosity gnawed at him, clashing with a deep, primal fear. the door didn’t belong there. it couldn’t belong there. and yet, it stood as if it had always been part of the street, as if the world had bent itself around it. he took a hesitant step forward, then another, until he was close enough to reach out and touch it.
the inscription above the door seemed to pulse faintly, the words burning themselves into his mind: “once you enter, you cannot return.”
his hand hovered over the handle, trembling. what lay beyond? was it a trap? a test? or something far worse? he thought about his life—the empty streets, the strange sky, the unnatural stillness. whatever this was, it felt like the end of something—or the beginning.
with a deep breath, he gripped the handle. it was cold, unnaturally so, and the hum in the air grew louder. he turned it slowly, the click of the mechanism echoing in the silence. the door creaked open, revealing not the street behind it, but an endless void, swirling with colors he couldn’t name.
he hesitated one last time, then stepped through. the door slammed shut behind him, and the world he knew was gone.
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