The Gatekeeper (Realms of the Underworld)
Chapter 1
Emmie
DOOMSDAY - LIZZY MCALPINE ?
Driving ten, okay, fifteen, over the limit, I can see the turn off in the road just ahead. The flickering bulb from one of the street lamps gives an ominous glow to the well-worn sign.
Welcome to Hallowed Springs Devil Pools. The hotter the better!
The crudely drawn devil with faded horns, leering over an image of the natural hot springs, makes me roll my eyes. The town plays on the tourist trap that is these springs, but if they only knew what secrets are buried here.
I'm of the belief that legends have to stem from somewhere.
The simple notion that at some point in time, a story became legend, became lore, was a cop out.
I wanted to know the nitty gritty. Some guy can't have just made up Hell. Or if he did, then what inspired it? His mother? Men aren’t that creative.
Demons, Hellhounds, the Devil. It all had to come from somewhere.
So I started to dig. Virtually, of course.
Internet sleuthing 101. After several years working at Berry Nice to Meet You, my town's local ice cream shop, I couldn't exactly afford to fly to some secret chapel on the side of a cliff to look through their archives.
But in the age of technology, I came across an interesting rabbit hole of information.
About one in particular that was only a few hours away from where I lived.
The Devil Pools of Hallowed Springs. And tonight, the night of All Hallows' Eve, the highest pool of the Obsidian Ranges creates a doorway to another realm.
A doorway to Hell … and I have front row tickets.
Okay, that's an exaggeration. No one is selling tickets. But I have spent the last several months collecting all of the equipment I might need to catch something from the other side. My social media channel, Pitchforksandchill666, is all set up, ready to livestream the events of the night, and my trusty bucket of salt rests in the passenger seat of my SUV. I’m not taking any chances on some rogue gust of wind breaking my protection circle.
On top of that sits my Ward Kit. An assorted collection of iron, holy water, and herbs, including garlic. Everything a girl could need for her first paranormal encounter. I even managed to track down a silver hairpin and a crucifix from the same guy selling them online.
I feel prepared for almost anything the night could throw at me. Short of an alien invasion, I just have this feeling I'm going to find what I'm looking for.
Practically fishtailing into the gravel car park, I spy a gap in the tree line where the road continues to wind.
My headlights illuminating the large open gate and path that takes you up the mountain.
Someone must be looking down on me because the ranger is nowhere to be seen, I won't be kicked out, and I can finally let out the breath I was holding.
Everything is going to work out, I just know it.
This is a sign I’m meant to be here.
The drive up takes at least ten minutes, and I've not seen any form of life other than myself.
Honestly, that's how I prefer it. I know the people I work with think I'm weird.
My family probably does too, but I did all the things they asked.
I went to university and I have a stable job, albeit it's not using my linguistics degree, but still, there's not a lot of need for that when you live in the middle of nowhere.
Parking, I take my large hiking backpack, stuffed to the brim with my electromagnetic field reader, handheld camera, infrared thermometer, and of course, my motion detectors.
October is cold at the best of times, but at this high altitude, you really feel the chill, so I have several instant warming packs in my puffer jacket pockets, as well as some extra essentials.
I can feel myself heating up from the anticipation, quickly unzipping my jacket to let the cold air hit me.
I'm organised but overwhelmed, and I haven't even started my walk.
It takes fifteen minutes at a slight incline to reach the pool that is stated to be the Gate to Hell.
I've spent the last two weekends travelling here and hiking all over this side of the mountain to make sure I knew where I was heading.
And to make sure I didn't have the completely wrong pool.
The legend is vague in this area, only saying it's the highest pool.
There are a few other things noted that make me confident that this is the real deal above all others.
There is mention of bells ringing, and Hallowed Springs has the oldest church in the valley with a small bell tower.
Also, it is said that demons have crossed into this land for centuries, that their almost white hair and ice blue eyes are the sign of the Devil.
Apparently, they would seek the comfort of exotic human women who they would lure into capture by their attractive features and ability to spin words.
Several people in the region have the same hair and eyes, but one time, in my eagerness, I stopped a biker who I saw walking out of the local church, and he laughed in my face.
Curled over, grabbed his abdomen, and laughed.
Saying that his hair goes back for generations from the town settlers, and he is one hundred percent certain that it's not the work of the Devil.
Reaching the thermal pool, or pools. I make the final small climb up a rugged cliff face to the top, where a thin stream of water cascades down.
Initially, I came up here and thought the larger spring the waterfall drops into was the highest pool, but it suddenly clicked like a light bulb turning on in my head that the water had to come from somewhere.
The last record of this particular Gate being opened was over one hundred years ago, and the most it stated was that a local girl went missing, her nightgown found at the edge of the highest spring.
It's currently nine-thirty, still two and a half hours until something is meant to happen.
The wind is picking up, but it's not unusual for the weather to change this high up in the mountains.
Setting up my equipment, I make sure all readings are normal, and then I create my sanctuary.
Pouring a thick ring of salt, I close the lid on the bucket, using it as my seat while I wait.
My eyes dart at every sound or movement, ready for the moment something jumps out of the shadows.
The camera to the left of me is my livestream.
I stupidly forgot to make my salt circle large enough to accommodate the tripod, but it will have to do.
If it tracks something because it's not protected, then effectively, it's done its job.
People will know that the supernatural exists… and I will be the one to prove it.