‘Have you been to the arch?’
Jimbob shuddered. ‘No one goes there, mate.’
Budboy sniggered. ‘You scared?’
‘Everyone’s scared. That creep and his death wish. They say if you answer him, you’re next.’
Budboy pulled his coat to him. ‘Well I dare you.’
Jimbob’s shoulders sank. ‘Don’t dare me, Budboy.’
But he did. And so it was that Budboy and Jimbob found themselves standing nervously by the old arch as it looked out to sea. ‘What is this place Budboy?’
Budboy shuffled nervously. ‘No idea. You’d better ask him.’
Jimbob had been dared so he gathered himself and stepped round to the seaward side. There sat the old man. He’d sat there for generations staring angrily out to sea. No one knew why. Was he guarding something?
Jimboy coughed and the old man turned and, as he had for generations, said, ‘Is that you, Death?’ The legend was clear. The arch was the gate to hell and if you answered in a way to displease the gatekeeper, you’d be whisked away for an eternity of damnation.
Continue reading: Death’s Doorway #writephoto #flashfiction