"I didn't say anything."
"Well it wasn't me--"
"Ahem."
Argument forgotten, Moana slipped over to Kiri, squeezing her close to him.
"Who's there?"
"I," replied the voice, "Am the Door Keeper."
"Where are you?" called Kiri, a quiver in her words.
"Right behind you."
As one, they turned to face their first stranger. Kiri could feel Moana's heart through both their ribcages. The baby was scared! And he was supposed to take care of her? Huh.
Moana gave Kiri what he thought of as a comforting hug. Her heart was beating so hard!
"Right here. In front of your noses."
"I don't--"
"You're a door?" Kiri interrupted.
And it is true that before them stood the strangest, most frightening door the two had ever seen. Granted, they had not seen very many, but this one was particularly alien. It's red wood (or was it stone?) twisted almost organically, suggesting random hearts and livers, contorted nearly beyond recognition.
"Don't be stupid! Of course I'm not a door. Doors can't talk."
"Then I still don't see you."
Moana had spotted something, a square rectangular opening in the center of the bizarre carvings (if they were indeed carvings). Slipping away from Kiri, he stepped forward, craning his neck to see through the gap. Suddenly he fell back, landing on his rump. Moving to stand, he had to stop to gag.
"Well obviously your friend here is far more observant than you."
"What the--" Kiri leaned in close, tilting her head back. Beyond the door, and framed in the dim grey light, a mouth sneered back. That wasn't so bad . . . except. Someone had taken black thread and sown it shut. As it opened into