Alger’s Dimension Part 7
“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.
Across the room, he thought he saw something huge appear from the hallway and ascend the stairs. He swallowed down a lump that had formed in his throat. Being in this house alone at night with the storm outside, and seeing it in this weird fashion, had him on edge. His eyes must have played a trick on him, going from the bright light under the lamp to the near blackness across the room had caused him to think he saw something.
Declan worked his way through the living room. The last place to search, and his last hope to find answers, was upstairs.
Declan climbed the stairs, rain pelting on the roof muffled his footsteps. He held his breath while he listened at the top of the steps for any indication he wasn’t alone. The hair on his arms stood on end while the smell of rain grew more pungent. However, no sound rose above the racket from the storm.
He proceeded down the hall. The first door appeared on his left, opening to a bathroom. He passed it without looking in. The door on the right led to a guest bedroom. He glanced in, his eyes followed a path that snaked through the room to a twin-size bed.
The next door on the left opened to Dr. Kazmarack’s bedroom. Declan stood in the doorway and studied the room. Pathways circuitously worked their way to the disheveled bed, but nothing else drew his attention. He wanted to search Dr. Kazmarack’s office, the last room on this floor.
He continued to the last door and entered the room. He followed the path around to a giant freestanding, reversible chalkboard. Declan examined the writing, but it was unreadable, written in the same manner as the notebook he still carried. He flipped the board and discovered a drawing on the reverse side. A rendering of the box he sought, inscription and all, appeared in chalk right next to a drawing of the dagger.
The hair on Declan’s neck rose moments before he heard a loud thump from across the room. He swung around, his flashlight beam illuminating the far corner. Nothing seemed amiss; the corner devoid of movement. He shone his flashlight across the rest of the room, but found nothing out of the ordinary. The beam of his light trailed along the wall, then returned to the corner from where he first heard the sound. Dr. Kazmarack’s desk was on that side of the room, next to a wall lined with bookshelves containing, ironically, very few books. Instead, the shelves were lined with a rather eclectic accumulation of antiques, among them at eye level rested the engraved box that belonged to the dagger from Dr. Kazmarack’s office.
Declan’s hand unconsciously went to his shirt. Although he had been aware of taking the dagger, it had slipped his mind. He reached into his shirt and pulled it out.
He gathered the dagger, notebook, and box, before sitting at the desk. Using light from the desk lamp, he examined the box, turning it in his hands. It was more beautiful than he remembered. The smooth calligraphy swept across the wood. Setting the box down, he opened Dr. Kazmarack’s journal to one of the first pages with the underlined writing. He compared the writing to the script on the box, then flipped to another page, and another. Each underlined passage from the journal contained a portion of the text inscribed on the box.
You can find all sections of “Alger’s Dimension” here.
