Summary

A person grapples with the decision to enter a forbidden area after encountering a "Do Not Enter" sign, driven by a mix of curiosity, societal trust, and an eerie encounter with a devilish figure, ultimately choosing to proceed with a companion.

Abstract

The narrative describes an individual's internal conflict upon finding a "Do Not Enter" sign on a building. Initially, the person respects the sign as a protective measure by authorities, but an inexplicable attraction to the sign and a hallucinatory encounter with a devilish figure instill a sense of urgency to disobey the warning. Despite feeling uneasy and experiencing strange whispers, the protagonist is determined to uncover what lies beyond the door, convinced of a greater purpose. With the support of a mysterious person, they enter the building unchallenged, and the protagonist resolves to avoid overindulgence in gummies, which may have influenced their perception.

Opinions

The protagonist initially trusts that the sign is for the greater good and respects the authority behind it.
There is a sense of skepticism about the true intentions behind the sign, hinting at a possible overreach or ulterior motives by those in power.
The protagonist's perception is influenced by an external force, possibly their own paranoia or an actual supernatural encounter, which challenges their initial compliance.
The narrative suggests that the protagonist's decision to enter is driven by a mix of curiosity, rebellion against perceived unnecessary restrictions, and a whimsical interpretation of events.
The presence of the mysterious person with blue eyes who aids in the protagonist's decision to enter implies a theme of partnership and shared curiosity in the face of the unknown.
The humorous undertone and the resolution to avoid eating too many gummies in the future indicate a self-awareness of the protagonist's potentially altered state of mind influencing their actions.

Do Not Enter, the Devil Decreed

October Daily Prompt

I approach the door, but stop in my tracks at the warning.

A DO NOT ENTER sign is meant to be a deterrent. I’m a good citizen and someone in charge clearly doesn’t want me in this building. If there’s a sign, there must be a reason, right? I’m sure the people behind this sign know what’s up. Perhaps it’s a military thing. Or maybe the President ordered it. Surely our government, who loves us and wants nothing more than to ensure the populace is full of happy and healthy and safe individuals, would never post a sign on any door for any reason other than to keep us out of harm’s way. Anything else would be preposterous. Unconstitutional. Pure evil.

This sign is here for the greater good.

I look at it again, colorful and shiny, its lettering deeply indented. I trace the D and O with a hesitant finger, then snatch my hand back before I’m caught. I begin to feel uneasy. I touch the edge and run my fingertip along the bottom, the coolness of the metal oddly pleasant. I find this sign inexplicably appealing, yet I feel a gnawing anxiety growing within my stomach. It’s too dark. I glance around me, at the nearly empty parking lot and toward the neat, tree-lined street. I begin to wish I hadn’t eaten that third gummy.

I close my eyes and a devil face appears, monstrous and red, although he’s wearing a natty suit. Where did the Devil get a suit like that? His eyes, with slit, snaky pupils, bore into mine, and suddenly I know that he knows I know what’s going on behind that sign. Even though I don’t know. I take a deep, shuddering breath. The problem of course is that if he knows I know he knows, then everyone knows, even if I don’t really know. My eyes fly open. I have to get in there. To save the world.

The Devil decreed it.

I freeze. Someone behind me is whispering. I tilt my head to the side, trying to make out the words, but they sound like gibberish. The whispers swell into yowls that ebb and flow. The cadence is off, but it’s still kind of musical. I sway awkwardly to the tune as it grows louder.

“Whahefekdewin — goneith — CLOZEnmmss — finchcoolariNAWWWwww*”

A flush of panic races through me, and I flap my body around clumsily, stumbling over my own feet before strong arms catch me. I look up, trying to focus but having severe difficulty — my eyeball tracking is off somehow.

Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth.

The arms give me a steadying little shake, then one hand slips beneath my chin and raises my face to his. Blue eyes are watching me with amused exasperation. My own zero in on them, and the pupillary fluttering stops.

Suddenly, I remember where I am. It all makes sense now! I glance behind me at the sign, which is no longer deterring me, and we go inside together without being stopped or questioned or detained or eternally damned.

As we approach the counter, I vow to never, ever eat the third gummy again.

*Translation: “What the fuck are you doing? Go in already! They’re going to close in five minutes! I need a French Cruller right now!”

“Hello October! Daily Prompts” #2: The door says, Do Not Enter! What do you do? Thank you Karen Schwartz for this fun prompt!

Hello October — Daily Prompts

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