The door appeared overnight.
Nestled in the corner of an old alley in the heart of the city, it was made of smooth, black wood that gleamed even under the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. There was no handle, no knocker, and no visible seam to suggest it could open. It simply stood there, leaning against the cracked brick wall as though it had always been a part of the alley.
For the first few days, the door was ignored by most. The city moved in its perpetual rhythm, its people too busy with their own lives to spare more than a passing glance at the oddity. Only a few curious passersby stopped to study it, their brows furrowed before they shook their heads and continued on. In a city as old as this one, strange things appeared all the time.
But Leila couldn’t ignore it.
Every day on her way to work at a dingy diner two blocks down, she passed the alley. Something about the door tugged at her, like a forgotten melody on the edge of her memory. It wasn’t just its appearance—it was the way the air around it felt. Heavier, quieter.
One day, she stopped in front of it, her brow furrowed. The door was unmarked, but its presence felt alive, almost watchful. She hesitated for a moment, then pressed her palm against the smooth wood.
It was warm, pulsing faintly as though it had a heartbeat of its own.
She snatched her hand back, her heart racing. It wasn’t possible, yet there it was, steady and undeniable. She quickly glanced around, but no one was paying attention to her. She walked away faster than usual, her thoughts clouded by the mystery of the door.
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The next morning, Leila passed the alley again, trying to ignore the pull. But when her shift ended and dusk fell, she found herself back there, standing in front of the door.
“Strange, isn’t it?”
Leila startled, spinning around to see an old man sitting on a crate nearby. His face was weathered, his clothes tattered. He looked like he’d been part of the alley for as long as the bricks and shadows had existed.
“What do you know about it?” she asked cautiously.
“Enough to know you shouldn’t open it,” he replied, his voice a low rasp.
“Why not?”
The old man shrugged, a strange smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Because some doors are better left closed.”
He didn’t say anything more, and when Leila tried to press him, he simply shook his head. She left that night, uneasy but no closer to understanding.
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Leila began dreaming about the door. She dreamed of stepping through it into places she couldn’t describe—vast, shifting landscapes that defied logic. Sometimes she was alone, and other times, she thought she saw shapes moving just out of sight.
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The dreams grew more vivid each night, until she woke up one morning with the distinct sense that the door was waiting for her.
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It was a rainy evening when she made her decision.
Armed with a flashlight, a bottle of water, and her old hiking backpack stuffed with supplies, Leila stood in front of the door. The alley was deserted, the city’s noise muffled by the downpour. She hesitated for a moment, then reached out.
The door opened without a sound, revealing a void of absolute blackness. She shone her flashlight into the darkness, but the beam seemed to be swallowed whole. Her breath caught, and for a moment, she considered stepping back.
Instead, she stepped through.
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The first thing she noticed was the silence.
It wasn’t just an absence of sound—it was the kind of silence that pressed down on her chest, making her acutely aware of every breath she took.
Her flashlight flickered to life, revealing a long hallway lined with doors. Each door was unique—some ornate with gilded carvings, others rough and weathered, as though ripped from a forgotten cabin. The floor beneath her feet was smooth and polished, reflecting the dim beam of her light.
Leila moved cautiously, her footsteps eerily loud. She stopped in front of a door painted a deep, rusty red. There was no handle, just a faint glow emanating from its edges.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open.
She stepped into a world unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was twilight, the sky streaked with violet and gold, and the air shimmered as though it were alive with static. Massive, crystalline trees towered around her, their branches crackling softly.
Leila stood in awe for a moment before stepping back into the hallway. As soon as the door shut behind her, the world vanished, replaced by the cold, unyielding silence of the corridor.
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She tried another door, and another. Each led to a different world—a vast desert under twin moons, a cavern glowing with bioluminescent moss, a field of endless white flowers that hummed softly when touched.
At first, the wonder of exploration drove her. She wanted to see what was behind every door, catalog every strange place. But as time passed, her excitement turned to unease.
The hallway didn’t end.
No matter how many doors she opened, how far she walked, the corridor stretched endlessly in both directions. Worse, she began to notice things—shadows moving where there shouldn’t be any, whispers just beyond her hearing.
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Days—or perhaps weeks—passed. Leila lost track of time. Her flashlight battery died, leaving her to navigate by the faint glow that seemed to emanate from the hallway itself. Her supplies dwindled, and hunger gnawed at her.
She encountered another traveler—a gaunt woman with sunken eyes and ragged clothes.
“You’re lost too,” the woman said, her voice hollow.
“Do you know how to get out?” Leila asked desperately.
The woman laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. “Out? There is no out. Only more doors.”
She disappeared into the darkness, leaving Leila alone once more.
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Leila pressed on, her resolve fading. The worlds beyond the doors grew stranger, more hostile. She opened one door to find herself staring into a void, her own reflection grinning back at her from the abyss. Another led to a ruined city, its crumbling towers reaching for a blood-red sky.
Finally, she came to a door unlike any she’d seen before. It was simple—plain wood with no markings—but it radiated a quiet warmth.
Her hand trembled as she reached for it.
When she stepped through, she found herself back in the alley. The door was gone, the city alive with its usual bustle.
Leila stood there for a long time, her heart pounding. She didn’t know if she had truly escaped or if this was just another door in the endless hallway.
But for now, she was free.
She walked away, vowing never to speak of what she’d seen.