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Carrie heard movement like someone descending the stairs, then a shuffling.

Close, very close.

Suddenly the small square portal was unlocked and opened.

Light beyond it brightened.

Moving nearer to the portal with trepidation, Carrie discerned a figure, sending a new bolt of fear through her. The figure was wearing a black hood—the top was four-corner square, like a box, like an executioner’s hood. It draped down over their chest and back. Arms in long sleeves, hands in black gloves.

Adjusting her focus, Carrie saw across to the other portal, opened to Joyce-Anne’s face, webbed with matted hair. Not believing the outrage of it all, Carrie seethed and exploded.

“Where’s my baby? Let us go! We can’t identify you! Unlock the door, walk away, let us go!”

The figure turned to Carrie.

A long moment passed, followed by some movement, digital clicking.

A low, robotic, monotone voice, sounding like the personification of doom, filled the space. Carrie knew the person must be using a voice changer—she glimpsed the small box of an amplifier clipped to their chest.

“You wish to be freed?” the voice said.

“We can’t identify you.”

A long moment passed.

“Where’s my baby?” Carrie’s sobbing overtook her. “Please, let me see my baby, my father, my husband again. Let us go, you have the power.”

“I will release both of you. You have my word.”

Joyce-Anne squeaked with a sob of disbelieving hope.

“You will?” Carrie said.

“I will release you to begin your journey.”

“Thank you—” Joyce-Anne shook, trembling “—thank you.”

The figure slammed the portal doors.

“I will release you into eternity.”