Spawn of Man by Terry Farricker

this point and asked if he wished this wall to be demolished too. Robert had instructed them to dismantle the second wall then advise him of their findings. And so the door had been discovered and Robert had been summoned. As soon as he had been alerted to the revelation, Robert had been convinced the door would solve the mystery of the ornate key.
    Robert parked the car and began to collect a bundle of plans and documents from the passenger’s seat. From nowhere a head was thrust through the open window, filling the space between Robert and the windscreen.
    ‘Jesus!’ exclaimed Robert and his head rocked back, hitting the headrest hard.
    ‘Evening, Mr. Douglas,’ said the builder.
    Robert closed his eyes and sighed, ‘You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack, Leonard!’
    ‘Sorry about that,’ conceded Leonard. Then he added, ‘Looks like the cabin fever’s got to you already and you haven’t even moved in yet!’
    ‘No, you creeping up scaring the crap out of me got to me, Leonard!’ corrected Robert.
    Leonard Willis was a round, short man, ruddy faced with a flattened nose and clownish, curled, copper hair. He was smug, self-righteous, and absolutely convinced of his own importance but he was unequivocally the best builder within seventy miles.
    ‘Anyway,’ continued Leonard, ‘we got as far as breaking through the second wall after I spoke with you and found the door. You want me to come and take a look with you?’
    ‘No, it’s fine, Leonard. You get off and I’ll see you in the morning, thanks,’ replied Robert, glad to be rid of the man.
    ‘Fine.’ Leonard left without saying goodbye, seemingly oblivious to the oversight.
    ‘Yeah, bye,’ added Robert under his breath and with a note of sarcasm as the builder climbed into his van and began to drive down the long, narrow approach to the institute.
    Robert entered the institute by the original, heavily decorative front door, with its twin marble pillars supporting a high stone roof. He fought his way through the plastic sheeting, abandoned tea mugs, and accumulated building paraphernalia. He assured himself that Leonard had a plan and that he had even let the rest of his building team in on it. He crouched to pass his tall frame through the rent the builders had created in the first false wall. As he brushed the plaster and dust from his thick blond hair, Robert scanned the unearthed room.
    There was nothing noteworthy, simply a study with desk and chair, bureau, lamp stand, and no windows. Everything was partially destroyed by fire, so it was difficult to gauge whether walls, floor and ceiling had decayed or been incinerated. Directly in front of Robert was the second false wall, partly demolished by the builders. This wall served to conceal the door that Leonard had reported and Robert’s curiosity curled into a little knot in his stomach at the sight of it. There was something intrinsically disquieting about a bricked-up door and Robert’s imagination had already opened it and was exploring a gateway to Hell hidden on the other side! What struck Robert as particularly strange was the fact that the door was made of steel, faded by time, and stained with dull smears where flames had licked at the surface and found it impassable.
    Robert withdrew the key from his jacket and stared at it intently before approaching the steel door. He held the key in front of the lock and his hand shook as if the thing was agitated in his grasp, almost animated by the proximity of the lock. Robert wondered how long it had been since the key and lock had last been joined. Foreboding stayed his hand and Robert felt a spasm of dread pass through his body, playing on his skin like an electric current, and he withdrew the key and touched the door instead.
    Smiling at his own unwarranted trepidation Robert made to engage the lock again when a beep from his wrist made him start and he almost dropped the key.
    ‘Jesus, what’s wrong with me?’ he snapped, frustrated by