‎The Door That Wasn't There‎‎When Violet first walked into the house on Ashwood Lane, something felt off. It wasn’t the creaky floors or the musty smell of old wood—it was the door. Or, more accurately, the lack of it.‎‎The house had been empty for as long as anyone could remember. Its walls, once white, were now a faded, yellowish color. The windows were thick with dust, and the garden had long been overtaken by wild ivy that climbed up the sides like fingers trying to pull the house back into the earth. But despite the decay, Violet had a strange pull toward it. Maybe it was the mystery of it, or maybe it was simply the fact that it was the only place she'd ever felt like she belonged.‎‎She had been wandering for hours through the crumbling rooms, not really searching for anything, just exploring, when she found herself standing in front of a narrow hallway. The house seemed to breathe around her, as though it were alive, shifting in the quiet of the late afternoon.‎‎At the far end of the hall, there was a door. A small, wooden thing, half-hidden behind a stack of old crates. Violet walked toward it, intrigued. She had seen no other doors like it in the house—no doorknobs, no hinges, no keyholes. Just a smooth, unbroken wall, the same color as the peeling wallpaper.‎‎She reached out to touch it, but before her fingers could make contact, something strange happened.‎‎The air around her shimmered. Like heat rising off pavement on a hot day, the space around the door began to distort, rippling as though reality itself was bending. Her heart skipped a beat.‎‎Was this real?‎‎Violet stepped closer, hesitating. She was drawn to it, the way one is drawn to a mystery. She reached for the door again, this time pushing against the invisible barrier, and it gave way with an odd, soft resistance, like pushing through water. The shimmer cleared, and there she was—on the other side.‎‎Except… there was no "other side."‎‎The room she entered was an endless void, like stepping into the night sky but with no stars, no moon, just emptiness. The floor beneath her feet felt solid, but there was no ceiling, no walls, just the silence that stretched out in all directions.‎‎Her breath caught in her throat.‎‎“Hello?” Violet called out, but the word felt strange as it left her mouth. It didn’t echo. There was no sound at all.‎‎She turned around, expecting to see the hallway she’d come from, but the door was gone. There was no trace of it—nothing but the dark space that seemed to pulse with a quiet energy.‎‎Her pulse quickened. Where was she? How had she gotten here?‎‎A sudden chill swept over her, and she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. She wanted to turn back, to find the way out, but she didn’t know how to return to the place she had come from. There was no door, no hallway, just an infinite, stretching emptiness.‎‎Violet’s mind raced. She took a step forward, then another, her footsteps the only thing breaking the silence. She had to find a way out. She had to find the door.‎‎Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time didn’t seem to matter here, where space itself bent and shifted. Eventually, Violet stopped walking and stood still, listening. Something had changed in the air. There was a low hum now, a vibration that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second.‎‎Without warning, the ground beneath her feet cracked open with a deep, resounding sound, and she stumbled backward. From the cracks, a strange, dim light spilled into the void.‎‎The light grew brighter, and Violet felt her body being drawn toward it. She didn’t resist. She had no choice but to follow, as though the light were a beacon calling her home. As she moved toward it, the air around her thickened, becoming heavy with anticipation.‎‎Then, the light exploded outward, filling the space with blinding brilliance. For a split second, Violet thought she might be lost forever in the blinding glow, but just as quickly as it had come, it faded.‎‎When her vision cleared, she found herself standing in front of another door. This one was different. It was a large, ornate thing, gilded and shimmering with gold, with an intricate pattern carved into its surface. Unlike the door from before, this one had hinges, a doorknob, and an unmistakable presence—something solid, something real.‎‎Violet’s heart pounded in her chest. She approached it cautiously, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch the cool brass knob.‎‎Just as her fingers brushed against it, a voice echoed through the space—a deep, ancient voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.‎‎“You’ve come far, Violet. But not all doors are meant to be opened.”‎‎Violet froze. Her hand hovered over the knob, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn it. Something in the voice made her doubt everything she thought she knew about this place.‎‎The voice continued, its tone soft but insistent. “This door will lead you where you cannot follow. Are y