The key to the Gate

Chapter 4: The Key to the Gate

Avery woke up with a start, her heart pounding as she glanced around Liam's apartment. It was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the city below. Her head still ached from the strange vision she had the night before—the glowing symbol she'd drawn, the whisper in her mind.

"The gate is opening... and you will be the key."

The words echoed in her mind, refusing to fade. It was as if the city itself was watching her, waiting for her to make her move. But what did it mean? Why was she the key?

Sitting up, she noticed her sketchbook still on the table. The symbol she'd drawn the night before glowed faintly on the page, its edges pulsing with an unnatural light. Avery's hand trembled as she reached for it.

"Did I... do this?" she whispered to herself.

Just then, a knock at the door broke her thoughts. Avery quickly closed the sketchbook, the light fading from the symbol, and jumped to her feet.

"Just a second!" she called out, her voice shaky. She wasn't used to feeling so on edge. For all she knew, the cult was already tracking her down.

She opened the door to find Liam standing in the hallway, a grim look on his face. His eyes scanned the apartment quickly, and then he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice low.

Avery's heart sank. She nodded and gestured for him to sit at the small kitchen table. "What's going on?"

Liam didn't sit down. Instead, he paced for a moment before speaking. "The cult's getting desperate. I did some digging last night after we barely escaped the plaza." He stopped in front of the window, staring out into the gray morning. "The symbol you saw—the one from your drawing—it's ancient. It's tied to a ritual that only happens once every century."

Avery's stomach twisted. "A ritual? What does it do?"

Liam turned to face her, his eyes hard. "It opens a permanent gateway between the human world and the supernatural. The Devourer—he's the one they're summoning. Once the gate is open, his kind can walk freely between the two realms. And the moment that happens..." He hesitated, then finished, "Everything as we know it will be destroyed."

Avery felt a chill run down her spine. "So, if they succeed, the city—the world—will fall?"

Liam nodded grimly. "Exactly. That's why you're important. You can see these things, Avery. The ghosts, the symbols—they're all connected to the gate."

Avery blinked in confusion. "But why me? I'm just an artist. I didn't even know this stuff existed until a few days ago."

"You're not just an artist," Liam replied, his voice softer now. "You've always had a gift. I saw it the moment I met you. The ability to see and connect with the spirits—it's not a coincidence. The gate's power is tied to certain people—those who can sense its energy. And you... you've always been one of them."

Avery's breath caught in her throat. "Wait… you mean this has been happening my whole life?"

Liam nodded. "The ghosts that reach out to you—they're trying to warn you. They want you to stop the ritual."

Avery was quiet for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. She'd always thought of herself as just an artist, someone who painted the city's beauty onto a canvas. But now… now everything felt different. The supernatural was real, and she was somehow part of it.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," Avery said, her voice small.

"You don't have a choice," Liam replied, his tone soft but firm. "You've already been pulled in. The ghosts chose you for a reason."

Avery sat down heavily, her head spinning. "What do I do now?"

"Now," Liam said, his voice low and intense, "we find the gate before the cult does. If we can destroy it, we can stop the Devourer from coming through. But to do that, we need to learn everything about it—where it is, how it works, and what's keeping it locked away."

"But we don't even know where the gate is," Avery said, shaking her head. "How do we find it?"

Liam's eyes narrowed. "That's where you come in."

Avery looked up, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"You've been drawing the gate in your sketches, right?" Liam asked. "The same symbol that's tied to the ritual. There's something about that symbol—it's not just a drawing. It's a map."

Avery blinked, trying to process what he was saying. "A map? You're saying that symbol shows us where the gate is?"

"I think it does," Liam said, his voice urgent. "That symbol is more than just a magic sigil. It's an ancient map, one that leads to the physical location of the gate. You've seen it in your drawings—there's something in you, Avery, that's connected to this. The ghosts are trying to guide you to it."

Avery felt a knot form in her stomach. "You want me to find it… to lead us to it?"

"Exactly," Liam said. "We're not getting through this without you, Avery. You have to trust yourself."

Avery stared at him, uncertainty swirling in her chest. "But I don't know if I can trust me."

Liam stepped closer, his voice steady. "You've been seeing ghosts, Avery. You've already been trusting them, whether you know it or not. You have more power than you realize."

Avery's fingers tightened around her sketchbook, her mind racing. The weight of the world felt like it was on her shoulders, and the idea of being the one to stop the collapse of everything she knew seemed impossible.

"I'll try," she said finally, her voice firm. "But if we're going to do this, we need more information. More than just these symbols and ghosts."

Liam nodded. "That's why we need to go to the archives. There's a place not far from here—the San Francisco Public Library's restricted section. They have old tomes, historical texts, and records of occult rituals. The kind of stuff that isn't available to the public."

Avery's head spun. "How do we get in there?"

"I know someone," Liam said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Someone who owes me a favor."

---

The walk to the library was long, but Avery barely noticed the time passing. Her mind was occupied with everything she had learned so far. She was in way over her head, but there was no turning back now.

Liam led her into a side alley near the library. It was dark and quiet, hidden from the usual bustle of tourists and students. He stopped in front of an unmarked door that looked like it belonged to an abandoned building.

Avery raised an eyebrow. "This doesn't look like the entrance to a library."

"It's not," Liam said. "But inside is the key to the information we need."

He knocked three times, and a voice called from within, "Who is it?"

"It's Liam," he replied. "I need access."

There was a brief pause, and then the door creaked open. Standing in the doorway was a tall man, older than Liam, with silver hair and dark eyes that held an unsettling amount of knowledge. His sharp features softened when he saw Liam.

"You look like you've seen better days," the man said with a smirk, stepping aside to let them in.

Avery eyed the man warily but stepped in after Liam. The room inside was dimly lit, with bookshelves lining the walls and a large wooden desk cluttered with papers.

"You always bring interesting people with you, don't you, Liam?" the man said.

Avery didn't respond, feeling out of place. She glanced at the shelves, her eyes skimming the titles of ancient-looking books that seemed to pulse with hidden knowledge.

"Let's just get to the point," Liam said, his voice firm. "We need to access the restricted section. I'm looking for information about an ancient ritual tied to the Devourer."

The man's eyes narrowed at the mention of the ritual, but he didn't hesitate. "Follow me."

He led them deeper into the library, past rows of ancient books, until they reached a small door at the back. He unlocked it with a key from his pocket and motioned for them to follow.

Inside, the shelves were crammed with old texts, some so ancient that the covers seemed to crumble at the slightest touch.

"This is where you'll find what you need," the man said, stepping back to let them look.

Avery and Liam started searching immediately, their hearts pounding as they began to pull books from the shelves. The knowledge they needed could be buried here—if they could find it in time.

Avery's fingers traced the spines of the dusty books, their leather bindings cracked with age. Some of the titles were in languages she didn't recognize — strange symbols, curling letters, and faded runes. The air smelled stale, like parchment and forgotten memories.

"Start here." Liam placed a heavy, leather-bound book in front of her. The title read: Rituals of the Forgotten Order.

"You think this one's important?" Avery asked.

"Could be," Liam said, flipping open another book titled San Francisco's Hidden Legends. "We need anything that mentions the gate, the Devourer, or that symbol you've been drawing."

Avery nodded and turned to the first page. The ink was faded, but she forced herself to focus. Each paragraph described strange rituals — dark ceremonies tied to lost souls and forbidden magic. Most of it made no sense, but when she reached the middle of the book, her heart skipped a beat.

"The Fang of the Devourer," the page was titled. Below it was an image of the exact symbol Avery had drawn the night before — the jagged circle of fangs surrounding a single eye.

"This is it," she whispered.

Liam looked up from his own book. "What did you find?"

"This symbol — it's called the 'Fang of the Devourer.'" She read aloud from the page:

The Fang of the Devourer is said to be the key to awakening the creature known as the Devourer — an ancient demon feared across realms. Legends claim the symbol marks those chosen to unlock the gate. The key is believed to be a living soul — a person tied to the spiritual world, gifted with sight beyond the veil. Only through this person's presence can the gate be fully opened... or sealed forever.

Avery swallowed hard. "It's me," she said quietly. "I'm the key."

Liam's expression darkened. "I was afraid of that."

"I don't get it," Avery said. "Why me?"

"Because you're connected to the spirits," Liam replied. "You've always been able to see them — even before this mess started." He pointed at the text. "That's what the cult is after. They need you to complete the ritual."

Avery clenched her fists. "So what — they're just going to kidnap me and drag me to some creepy altar?"

Liam's face hardened. "If they get the chance, yes."

A heavy silence filled the room.

"But there's more," Avery said, her eyes scanning the page. "It says the gate isn't just anywhere. It's hidden beneath a place of great power — a site connected to death, sacrifice... or a powerful natural force."

"That could be a lot of places," Liam muttered. "Old battlefields, graveyards... hell, even parts of the bay."

"Wait," Avery said, suddenly remembering something. "What about the Golden Gate Bridge?"

Liam frowned. "The bridge?"

"Think about it," Avery pressed. "Hundreds of people have... you know... jumped from it. The energy there — the death, the pain — it fits what this book is saying."

Liam's eyes widened. "You might be right. The Golden Gate is one of the most haunted places in the city."

He grabbed another book and started flipping through its pages. "There's an old legend about the bridge's construction. Some say the builders found something buried in the rocks when they started digging... a shrine, or an altar. They sealed it up, thinking it was cursed."

"That has to be it," Avery whispered.

"If the cult's planning to perform the ritual there, we don't have much time," Liam said. "The next blood moon is only a few days away."

Avery's chest tightened. "Then we need to find that altar before they do."

Hours Later — The Golden Gate Bridge

The cold wind stung Avery's face as she stood at the edge of the viewing platform. Fog clung to the air, swallowing the far end of the bridge. The water below was dark and restless, waves crashing against the stone pillars that held up the towering structure.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Avery asked, hugging her jacket tightly around her.

"It's the best lead we've got," Liam said. He scanned the area, his eyes sharp. "If they're preparing for the ritual, they'll need to set up near the foundation."

"The base of the bridge?" Avery asked. "How are we supposed to get down there?"

"There's a service tunnel," Liam explained. "I know a way in."

They moved quickly, following a narrow path that wound beneath the structure. The air was colder down here, and the faint rumble of cars above vibrated through the steel beams. The closer they got to the base, the heavier the air felt — as if something dark was breathing beneath the earth.

"There," Liam whispered, pointing toward a gap in the stone wall. A narrow crack revealed a staircase leading deeper underground.

"You're sure this isn't some maintenance tunnel?" Avery asked nervously.

"Positive," Liam muttered. "That's not a city-made staircase."

The steps were uneven and ancient, carved directly into the stone. The air smelled damp and metallic, and the walls felt too close. As they descended, flickering torchlight appeared ahead — and faint whispers began to drift through the air.

Avery's pulse raced. "They're already here..."

Liam's hand shot out, stopping her. "Stay quiet," he warned.

They crept closer until they reached a wide chamber carved directly beneath the bridge's foundation. The cultists were gathered in a circle, cloaked figures chanting in low, guttural voices.

At the center of the room lay a stone altar, cracked with age. The same jagged Fang of the Devourer symbol was carved into its surface — and it glowed faintly, as if something inside was stirring.

Avery's breath hitched when she saw a familiar face kneeling near the altar — the masked cultist who had chased her the night before.

"He's here..." she whispered.

"And he's not alone," Liam muttered grimly.

The masked figure reached into his robe and pulled out a curved dagger — its blade black and slick like oil. He raised it high, chanting louder. The other cultists joined him, their voices echoing off the stone walls.

"We have to stop them," Avery whispered.

Liam's grip tightened on the silver dagger at his belt. "We will," he promised. "But not yet. We need to know what they're planning first."

A deep rumble shook the floor. The glowing symbol on the altar pulsed brighter, and a cold wind swept through the chamber.

"The gate is opening..." the masked figure intoned, his voice sharp with triumph.

Avery's blood turned to ice as a shadowy figure began to rise from the altar — a twisted shape with burning eyes and curling horns. The air thickened with power, and Avery felt something deep inside her pulse in response.

"The gate..." she breathed. "It's waking up."

"Not if I can help it," Liam growled.

He pulled his dagger free, ready to strike — but before he could move, the masked cultist turned suddenly. His burning gaze locked directly on Avery.

"There she is..." the man hissed.

The chanting stopped. Every cultist turned to face her.

"Run," Liam whispered.

But it was too late.