Alger’s Dimension Part 5
“Alger’s Dimension” is a horror novelette, first published by “Disturbed Digest” in their December 2017 issue. If you’re just entering this story, you can start from the beginning by going here, or if you want to see all available parts to date, you can find them here. A new part of this story will be released every day, with the 13th and final episode coming out on Halloween.
Declan rose to his feet, noticing boxes piled haphazardly next to the eight foot tall bookcases. They overflowed with shredded books, broken lamps, and a twisted metal and plastic device resembling an old, smashed radio. The boxes contained other indeterminate items tossed inside. He chose a book from one of the boxes. Pages fluttered to the floor while the binding twisted on a few remaining strands.
Declan shifted some of the items in the boxes around, but didn’t find anything of note. He looked up to the bookshelves, which still contained some books and artifacts the professor had collected through the years, still intact, undisturbed. It reminded Declan of a tornado ripping through a town, obliterating some houses while leaving neighboring ones undisturbed.
Declan turned from the bookcases to focus on Dr. Kazmarack’s desk. He inspected the surface, looking through Dr. Kazmarack’s notebooks, notes, calendared appointments, anything that might provide a starting point. Many of the pages had water spots with smeared ink. Small areas on the wooden desk were bubbled from water damage. A breeze blew in the window and fluttered a few loose pages on the desk. Declan pushed the curtains aside and closed the window.
Declan didn’t have the slightest inkling what Dr. Kazmarack had been working on. Declan could have asked someone within the department, but he doubted that Dr. Kazmarack’s work for the university would get him into trouble.
Resting his hands on the desk, he hung his head in defeat. Sunlight poured in through the window, warming his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, Declan caught a glint near the floor from the other side of the room.
He crossed the office, but from the closer vantage point, he didn’t see anything that would have reflected the sun. He knelt next to the bookcase and noticed a gap between the bottom shelf and the floor where he could just make out an object.
He ran his hand underneath the bookcase, and attempted to dislodge the item. He yanked his hand from the gap and winced. A droplet of blood formed from a small nick on his middle finger. Instinctively, he drew the wound to his mouth and sucked the blood.
Scanning the upper shelves of the bookcase, Declan saw a row of various archaeological tools. Dr. Kazmarack had an interest in the field and had collected several pieces. Among the tools, he noticed a trowel with a flat rectangle on one end and a spade-shaped blade on the other. A long handle connected the two ends of the thin tool.
Declan used the trowel to extend his reach and protect his fingers as he tried to scoop the object from underneath the shelves. It caught on something and didn’t budge. Declan leveraged the trowel against the edge of the shelf, increasing the force he used. It popped loose and skittered across the wooden floor until it spun in a circle in the middle of the dark pool of dried blood.
The discovery mesmerized and horrified Declan. He scooted closer to examine the object, a dagger. The blade had crusted, dark brown blood that ran down and nestled in the grooves of the intricately carved handle.
Declan felt certain the dagger played an important role in the disappearance and probable death of Dr. Kazmarack. Making matters worse, Declan had pricked himself on what could be a murder weapon.
Declan studied the handle. Foreign script separated lines that curved around the hilt in smooth arcs. He tried to picture it without the blood, and images of a tarnished silver handle surfaced from his memory. He knew this knife.
The last time he’d laid eyes on it, it had rested inside a wooden box, which had similar carvings on it, except he remembered the box had more writing on it. It had been in the same unfamiliar script. Dr. Kazmarack had a fascination with epigraphy, and spent a considerable amount of time trying to decipher the inscription on the dagger and its wooden case. As far as Declan knew, Dr. Kazmarack hadn’t been able to translate the writing, but then again so many years had passed that he couldn’t be sure.
Declan searched for the case. Even among Kaz’s eclectic collection, the mahogany box with the foreign lettering inscribed on all of its exposed sides could not escape the attention of even the most casual observer. He hoped that the dagger meant he would find the box here as well.
After rummaging through the cardboard boxes, the drawers of the desk, and the bookshelves, he felt satisfied that the wooden box was not in Kaz’s office. Declan considered his next move before deciding to continue his search at the professor’s house.
He walked to the door, then looked at the room one last time. The dagger still lay on the floor, and in that instant he made a choice. He seized the dagger, then as an afterthought went to the shelf where he’d earlier found the trowel. He found a leather roll filled with tools. He emptied its contents onto the shelf then wrapped the blade of the dagger in it before concealing it inside his shirt.
You can find all sections of “Alger’s Dimension” here.
