The Void

The Edge

-It turns out we moved in next to a portal. Of course, we didn’t know that at the time, or else I imagine rent would have been a lot cheaper. These things started occurring everywhere over the last couple of years. The first one was in Florida, in some poor guy’s backyard. By the time we got ours last month, people weren’t really as scared of them anymore. They don’t really do anything unless you wander into one, or one happens beneath you without warning. When ours appeared, most of our community moved away, and the Lowes adjacent to the thing shut down. White tents popped up overnight and activity could be heard at all hours over the next few days, but they predictably found nothing and soon moved on. People were encouraged not to go near the thing, but nobody wanted to anyway. Despite not being particularly harmful from a distance, they still evoked a sense of unease and a dread of the unknown. Over the following weeks, more people migrated away from the thing until, eventually, my wife and I were the only ones left in our complex. The area became drastically less busy, leaving us with a new sense of isolation. Despite my attempts to assure her everything would be okay, my wife grew more and more uneasy living near the thing. As my curiosity grew, I could feel a divide in our young relationship that left me sick with myself for becoming more allured to the unknown.

I soon found myself walking to the thing at night. I became enamored by it, captivated. These portals consisted simply of a thick layer of fog: nothing really more, as far as we knew. When one appeared anywhere in the world, they were probed and sampled, poked and stared at for any kind of hint as to what they were or what their purpose was. The most curious find, other than a daunting nothing, was by a team in Japan at the top of Mount Iwate. The team had the idea to lower into the portal a small device that sounded a siren-like frequency that could be monitored by sensors on the surface. They found that the signal did, in fact, return from the depths, but unlike any radar or sonar before, and they estimated an ultimate depth of …  well, they couldn’t really; they ran out of cord after almost 2000 meters. The device descended the entire height of the volcano, straight through it. This is when the term portal became popular, but nobody could figure out where they went. I found myself pondering for hours about this. I would stand at the edge of mine and just stare into depths I could not perceive until my thoughts grew sluggish and I would return to my home. There was a sort of maintenance scaffolding that projected into the pond before it was a portal; without the foundation it now bends into the portal from the edge. This has become a source of great temptation to me, mostly due to the fact that it wasn’t removed by the scientists. Had they thought to send someone down? What did they find? Was it nothing for them to be concerned about? Nothing worth publishing or warning the public about? These thoughts kept me awake, and my caution slowly gave way to a dark curiosity that I could not believe was building inside me.

Just a few days ago, the eruption occurred. It was not expected, especially after two years of inactivity, but the first portal, in Fort Braden, Florida, erupted. The word eruption is used out of lack of a better term to describe the happening. ‘Sudden enormous expansion’ is a mouthful, but still accurate. The affected radius was all of 250 miles and encompassed Jacksonville, Tampa, Orlando, Columbus, Savannah, and Atlanta. A thick layer of fog emerged overnight that clung low to the ground and could be seen from satellites orbiting overhead. Everything within the area seemed unharmed, but major evacuations ensued, creating massive currents of chaos into neighboring cities, including Miami, Charleston, Nashville, and Charlotte, which is where my wife and I live. The fog-smitten areas did not have the same key characteristic of the portals, meaning their depth. One could walk about normally through it, seemingly without fear of suddenly plunging to depths uncertain. As harmless as it seemed, it terrified everyone. The eruption added a new layer of unpredictability to these occurrences that brought them back under a close watch. My nightly walks to the portal were interrupted by the reappearance of military vehicles and scientists wishing to find some kind of reaction within the thing to help predict future activity.

 My wife left me yesterday. I resent that I did not go with her. Something in the back of my mind tells me that we can’t get away from these things, but perhaps she would have felt safer had I gone along. Maybe she should feel safer without me.

-Just before it erupted, they found something: a small, brief rise in temperature. That’s it. So small that it could have just been a sensor malfunction, but they claimed it as ‘valuable new information’ and a ‘huge discovery.’ They came door-to-door to make sure no one was still around. I hid in my closet, praying that all they did was knock. After a few minutes and no door kicked in, I moved out and listened with my ear to the door. I could hear their hurried footsteps working to clear the area; working sloppily, as if they too wanted to leave. I could hear them in my building for about half an hour before I finally heard their large diesels take off to assist with the inevitable evacuations. Before the power went out, and the news stations shut down, I saw the report. My portal had erupted into an almost 400-mile radius. DC is now under fog: almost all of Kentucky and Virginia and the entirety of Georgia as well. All I am experiencing is quiet, but half the Eastern United States is experiencing chaos. Part of me fears for my wife. Part of me longs to go to her and protect her from all of the bad that could be coming upon us, but nobody knows what to expect, and I long to discover the purpose of these portals.

-Tonight, I wandered out again. The sky was incredibly clear. The moon seemed larger than normal, brighter. Its light reflected off the fog, dimly illuminating the ground as far as the eye could see in all directions. No other lights were on in this once-busy community, and without the pollution, new stars were visible to me. I did not expect to encounter anyone at the portal, but from a distance I spotted two soldiers standing guard, chatting casually with rifles in hand. I figured they were ordered not to shoot but to advise anyone crazy enough to stay (and then even crazier to come near the thing) to leave the area. I knew they would not let me near it, and while I was crazy enough to want to approach the thing, I was not crazy enough to confront two armed soldiers on the matter. I retreated, only to walk the other way around the building and see if there were others. I found a small command center located in the mall parking lot across the road. They seemed minimally staffed, although I’m certain not many people volunteered for this post. I encountered no other patrols on my walk, and came back here after a few hours. I tried going to sleep, but I can’t stop thinking about all of this. I have no way of knowing what is going on in the rest of the world other than my phone, granted that wireless networks are still up and running. I have not turned it on for the last few days in order to preserve the battery. I am curious if my wife has called me. I know she is probably afraid for herself and me. I hate to imagine what she may be going through.

-They finally left. It’s only been a week since the eruption, so my guess is that things have escalated beyond what was imagined. What could possibly have been imagined though? I finally had the thought of breaking into the Lowes and getting a lawnmower battery and inverter to charge my phone. After turning it back on, I had about thirty missed calls, all from my wife, my parents, in-laws, my brother, and friends. I had a voicemail for almost each call, but I only listened to my wife’s. She had gone to her parent’s house, and after the eruption they had all followed an evacuation to Memphis. There was another eruption yesterday out of Onondaga Park in Missouri that must have been triggered by the eruption here. People are running out of places to run to. In my wife’s last voicemail she told me that she hopes I’m okay, and that I’m safe, and that I had sense enough to get far away from ‘that thing.’ They never made it to Memphis due to the millions of people trying to get away, but they had found a place to stay, and were doing just that. They had decided that running was futile, and she argued at least she wasn’t near a portal. I browsed the internet for hours. The eruptions had started all over the world. People all over the Internet conspired and debated. Some blamed America for experimenting with some kind of new weapon, while others blamed Russia for some kind of attack. There was speculation about an attack from another dimension, and other seemingly ridiculous theories. News channels conversed with scientists and government officials about what could be going on. Highways and interstates were filmed from helicopters: cars abandoned for miles while their owners carried the few belongings they could gather to get away. A sea of desperate lives pushing through clogged arteries to remove themselves from an unknown infection that the body had no way of fighting off. They moved through the fog like ants, and I watched from my bedroom miles away, starting to think that I’m better off here. The thought crossed my mind eventually to call my wife back. She did not answer. I’m going back to the portal tonight. 

The Descent

-Last night I went back to Lowes and got rope. I had no idea what to expect because nobody had ever gone into one of these things before, at least never on record. Upon approach I heard, and felt deep beneath my feet, a low hum with a rhythmic pulse to it, seeming to emanate from the portal. It grew slightly louder as I got closer and I wondered if it was exclusive to my imagination, or would others have felt it? Instead of deterring me, this sound, or feeling, only fueled my intrigue. I stood on the edge of the portal, at the base of the bridge. I stood for a while, trying to take in my surroundings, only to realize I noticed no other sound around me except that ominous subterranean droning. Absolute silence, as if the world had been exposed to the vacuum of space. I secured one end of the rope to the foundation of the bridge, and the other around my waist. I crept hesitantly to the edge, knowing that, as scared as I might be, I was not going to back down. I had to hold tight to the railing as I worked my way down the incline. Several times the bridge shuddered as if it might fail, but I kept going. The last thing I remember, as the fog reached my shoulders, was a coldness. I recognized it—as cold, that is—but my body did not seem to react as it should have. It was as if my nerves had been shut down, and instead my mind had just decided that this place was cold. As my chin approached the border of this world and whatever lay below, the scaffolding failed, but I do not remember falling. I only remember waking up in my room. I can find no sign of injury on my person, nor any indications of mental trauma. My phone is now missing, so I cannot even entirely confirm that it has only been a day. What seems like last night may have been days or weeks ago.

-I used to walk by the portal on my way to the grocery store I had been burglarizing. I’ve had to avoid it the last few days. I don’t know why I have had no sense to leave this dead place. I have about a half a tank of gas in my car but it would not take me very far. There are empty cars on the exit to the highway by my home. Standing on the overpass I can see them for miles. Nature here seems new. I wonder if people are laughing at themselves for running away in such wild and frenzied masses. I sometimes hear a helicopter in the distance—one passed overhead a few times yesterday—but no other sounds can be heard. I sometimes feel observed, but it’s likely I just wish I wasn’t alone in all of this. My observer is just a figment of my imagination; a coping mechanism to help me survive.

-Today I was wandering through the grocery store, like had become normal, when I thought I saw someone or something out of the corner of my eye. I felt the odd sense of a presence one aisle over and, upon investigation, found no one or nothing. I searched a while longer for whatever it was that had my instincts on edge with no luck. It’s been almost two weeks now since my descent, and it was another two weeks before that since the eruption, and in the past month of my conscious memory I have not felt so sure that there was something else here with me than in those moments. I heard the familiar sound of a helicopter outside and decided to investigate to get my mind off of my observer. Upon exiting the building, I saw it, maneuvering above the area of the portal as if it were looking for something. I watched from afar for about half an hour before it gave up its efforts and flew away. I returned home.

-The urge had been growing and it finally overwhelmed me. It woke me up like a child calling for their parent in the night, a child whose cries I had been ignoring for the past weeks. I couldn’t wait until morning, so I ran. I needed to be there. I was soon standing on the edge again. Not ready to descend back into that void, but to just patiently wait for whatever insights the portal might have for me. I stared for hours, hyper aware of its presence before me, and of nothing else. I let my mind wander into those depths, to explore with my imagination the world that could be on the other side. What cancer this world could be upon mine. It was hours before my eyes broke their gaze, and across the way I saw something peculiar. The rope, still lowered into the abyss, hanging by the collapsed bridge. I soon realized I had come back to what might be considered a crime scene. It must have been what caused the helicopter to stop, to stop and speculate what happened to the poor soul at the end of the rope. It was at that moment that I realized that something was indeed still attached to the other side of the rope. It was drawn tight by the weight of whatever it was, and to imagine what it could be paralyzed me. My legs carried me slowly to the place as my mind tried its best to resist this. I did not believe I could handle knowing what hung dead in the void, but the smaller part of me was somehow stronger. I gripped the rope firmly and with all of my strength began to draw it in, trying to ready myself for anything. I knew what I expected to find, but my mind would not let me fully realize it. My own thoughts were hidden from me, and a voice pleaded with me to stop: that I really didn’t want to see what was at the end of the rope. But my body resisted these suggestions, and continued the effort.

I carried him back to my place. I laid him in my bed and left him there. I couldn’t be near him; I needed to get away, to process what was going on. I took the phone from his pocket to see if I could find any answers and discovered that he had been keeping the same journal I had been keeping before I lost my phone. I have been keeping my own records over the last few days and will add them later to hopefully put together some kind of puzzle. I cannot stop shaking. I cannot begin to reimagine this world, or maybe this new one in which I have resided since my descent. I wonder if it is even possible to return to my own world, or even dimension! I could be in another dimension! Mobile networks are down, the phone is useless except to provide me a way to gather my thoughts again. I will be keeping it, as well as a close eye on him.  

The Void

-This afternoon I went back to check on him. He was still asleep and I really just wanted to let him be. I quietly gathered my journal and have already added three accounts that seem relevant to all of this. I also grabbed some food and set up in another apartment a few floors up so as to avoid detection when he finally does come to. It wasn’t until this evening that I spied him venturing cautiously outside. He made his way to the parking lot outside our balconies and stood there for a few moments staring in the direction of the portal before wandering off. I did not care to follow him. I felt I knew myself well enough to know he would be back. The thought never occurred to me that this thing might very well not be me, but thinking of that now makes me feel panicked. I know not what he did the few hours he was out, but he did in fact come back. I will be locking my door tonight in case he tries to explore this place further. I do not wish to be found, not yet. I do not know if or when I will ever want my presence known to him.

-I held on to a thread of hope that by staying and observing I might come close to something resembling an understanding of this place, and maybe even find a way home. That I might learn about this new world, or dimension, that had either spilled out into my world or that I had plunged into. But I have been assured I know nothing, and very well never may. I feel at the mercy of some cosmic damnation that chose me for this hellish existence. My enlightenment started yesterday morning. I needed to replenish my food store, so I had made my way to Target early, earlier than I had seen him up and about over the last few days. I felt confident that he would be avoiding the portal like I had when I first awoke in this world. As much as I also wanted to avoid the thing, I decided it was the best route to avoid a possible encounter. Going out itself was risky, but I needed food and water. The rope I had pulled him up by was hidden by the dense fog, and I tried to avoid looking at the place where it should lay. I made it to the store to no sign of prior entry, at least that day. I was about to turn down the canned soup aisle when I saw him, standing halfway down the way filling a basket. Thankfully, my mind was able to react quickly and I dashed to the next aisle as quietly as I could. I heard his activity stop. I had not heard it before I saw him, but I knew when he had stopped loading his basket and could sense him staring curiously down the aisle towards where I had just been. I slowly moved to the far side to try and sneak a glance. He was making his way slowly to the opposite side to investigate and I took the opportunity to get out of the building. On my way home I noticed in the distance a helicopter. They came around every now and then, for what reasons I do not know. This one wasn’t doing anything, just hovering about a hundred feet off the ground. It was army, an attack helicopter. I heard some commotion from where I had come and I made my way back to find three soldiers confronting ‘me’ outside the grocery store. The soldiers approached the other me, guns drawn, ordering me to get down. I watched as I complied, set my basket onto the ground, put my hands on my head, and got on my knees. The soldiers approached to put me into custody but I suddenly resisted. It was this moment, watching from afar, hidden behind trees and brush, that changed everything. The moment that I still cannot fully process in my mind. That thing is NOT me. It is something else. It does not belong in my plane of existence, or it shouldn’t. The thing began to spasm and vomit blood, and when two of the men forced it onto its stomach I heard a violent tearing sound and several limbs erupted from the fog and buried themselves into the men’s bodies. The third soldier from a few feet away began to shoot, but the thing moved low and quickly through the fog and quickly dealt with him. I didn’t hear the helicopter approaching, but it soon appeared overhead and opened fire. It stood, belched a horrible gurgling scream and retreated back into the Target. I ran, praying that I would go unnoticed. I made it back here and listened from my bed at the distant gunfire. After hours, it stopped; as the evening progressed I heard trucks make their way slowly around the perimeter of my building every so often. When it grew dark I swear I heard the thing sneak back in. It was so quiet, but I could feel it. I knew it came back. Three floors below me the beast is likely sleeping while I can’t. It’s two in the morning and my phone has stopped charging, probably meaning that my lawnmower battery has discharged. I would rather not risk going back out there, but my supply run yesterday was unsuccessful and I will need food eventually.

-I was startled awake by gunfire. The phone says it’s 10:58 in the morning, but it is still dark outside. The shouting and screaming lasted about two minutes before a renewed silence. Everything came from the direction of the portal. Curiosity will eventually get the best of me, so I may end up playing the role of the cat.

-I went down there. I shouldn’t have, but I did. There is no moon or stars to be observed in the sky, only darkness. It is so otherworldly. The fog on the ground resembles a winter’s night, with the snow glistening in the nonexistent moonlight. Trees and buildings could be made out somewhat by the light, but only as I came close. I was surrounded by a surreal darkness, the likes of which should never have been known to man. I made my way slowly, as stealthily as I could, through the dark that contrasted so heavily to the dimly illuminated ground. At first I could only see their trucks: two of them, parked on my side of the portal. As I made my way around I noticed through the fog several bodies scattered about, all massacred. I found one of them on the other side who appeared to have been handling the rope before his death. Had they pulled up another one of those monsters? Upon this discovery, I ran back here, only to find that either almost 24 hours had passed, or my phone’s clock is going backwards, as it now reads 8:15 am.

-I wish I had thought to get a gun from one of the fallen soldiers. Whether these things can be killed or not, it may have given me some sense of security, and maybe even a quick way out of this madness. I can hear them outside, several of them it seems; calling and responding, near and far. I had imagined there couldn’t be more than a couple, but I assume they must now just be crawling out of the portal from whatever hell they originate. It’s one in the morning again. I watched the clock so closely as it ticked backwards to try and assure myself I was not going mad, but I still feel I may be.

-I heard a commotion outside my door: a careful approach, a brief investigation, and then it scurried away. It took my mind a few minutes to remember to tell my lungs to breathe. I never felt safe here, but with the new presence of actual, visible threats, I at last feel the urge to leave. Unfortunately, I appear to be trapped. I do not know how many of those things are actually out there. I am afraid to run, but am I more afraid to stay? If I could make it back to the portal and get a gun I might stand a chance. If I encounter more armed persons it may be hard to prove my innocence. Coming out of all of this, how do I prove I’m not one of them? The first one looked just like me. I have no way of knowing the answers to these questions unless I actually try. If I try and fail, is it any worse of a fate than being found here by the monsters? If I succeed I still may end up finding that this is just the world now, or confirm that this never was my world and I am in fact the piece out of place. That couldn’t even be considered a success. I could be going out into a world of demons. I would go mad! Is there any way I could win? I am scared to learn the fate of my wife; I do not know if I wish to try and find her. Writing all of this, I am beginning to wonder if I even wish to live at all in this. My only success might be through death. No. I will try. I will try to find her. Though she is now hundreds of miles away, I will try. I would be able to consider finding her some sort of success. But if I find she has fallen victim to this horrible world then I will end myself, for I will have no other reason to continue. This phone will not join me on my journey. It is almost dead and would be useless. Writing all of this down only helps so much; I have started to feel my sanity slip into the new permanent black outside. I will leave it here for whomever may find it, God help them.

I will either go insane, be murdered, or find my wife.

It is likely none will provide a good outcome for me.

The Beast of the Abyss

Six months ago the eruptions began, and the entire Earth was enveloped in the fog. I had left him just as it all started because I was scared. My husband never explained to me why he wanted to stay, and no matter how I pleaded he would not come with me so I just left him there. When the world fell into chaos I never expected to see him again, but soon things calmed down. Power came back on a month after the mass evacuations began and, as news started to circulate showing the inactivity of what they called ‘portals’ all around the world, people began to head back from where they came. It took me a couple of weeks to make my way back home and hope had started to work its way into my heart, but when I arrived he wasn’t here. I did not know if I honestly expected him to be, but when he wasn’t I felt I had lost him, certainly, forever. I went to the police, who already had so many things to deal with. His name was added to the long list of those missing since the exoduses. What little hope I had held on to I let go of. Last week the mysterious portals went away, along with the fog. They just disappeared and left no evidence of ever having existed, and a day later my husband returned to me.

            I cannot describe the joy I felt rise in me as I opened the door that day and he was standing there. I held him for so long. If he had been a hallucination, I wanted to make it last as long as I could, but he was beside me the next morning in bed, and the next.

            This morning while doing laundry I found his phone in his pant pocket. I saw all of the missed calls, as well as this strange document. I did not want him to think I was snooping, so I emailed it to myself to read later. When I gave him the phone back he looked at it curiously, like he did not recognize it. But he took it, almost as if to avoid suspicion. I do not know how best to describe what was contained within that document, so I simply left it as I found it and added these notes at the bottom. I guess I felt urged to finish his story. Nothing makes sense about this account though. First, it does not match the timeline. His documented experiences took place over almost a month and a half, it seems, but I was here then, at least at the end. Second, he experienced things seen nowhere else on the planet. Out of all the occurrences and the mass coverage, nothing like this was ever recorded. Third, and maybe the least troubling, is he states that he had no intention of bringing his phone with him to find me. I have told myself that he had later decided to bring it with him. I am afraid to confront him about these things. I feel as though he is a cracked mirror and I may cause him to fall into pieces on the floor. A cracked mirror can’t be fixed, and I wonder if my husband is truly the same man I left behind.









Edited by Jessica Efird