Heart of Darkness

And tortured those minutes were. Ernest wondered when the door would finally give way, when the girl would give up on her quest and accept that nobody was home. Time flowed like cooling cement, the atmosphere growing thicker and thicker in the lingering silence, and Ernest occupied himself with the world above him, met the eyes of a few wary onlookers, whistled the melody of an advertisement he heard on the way there. Was the door waiting for his own input, his voice to complete some enigmatic code? He drew breath to speak, and that's when Astrid applied the final knock, and the sigil gave way to darkness, so black that it almost breathed. From the maw came a silent set of fingers. They pulled the girl in and all Ernest could do was stand there, examine the door and wait for realization to come, the panic drip around him. It was so fast that it must have been a mirage, and he expected a small voice--"Mr. Ernest?"--to rise beside him, ask him why he looked so ghastly.

But no voice came. He moved his stiff neck to find the street entirely empty.

The man flashed forward, banged on the door. He didn't care about secret knocks or waiting long, patient minutes. His eyes flit to each brick along the wall, and he backed up a step to scale it with his eyes. There had to be a window somewhere, any sort of passageway in. "Astrid!" His voice tremored. Eyes glared down as if they hadn't seen anything, like vultures from a roost, and the echoes that consumed the the sky ensured him that the entire city was empty.