Alger’s Dimension Part 13
“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 ran with everything he had left, but it wasn’t enough. He collapsed. His breaths came in huge gulps. Soft, cold mud cradled his face. The faintest beams of moonlight broke through the treetops. He refused to die lying down, so he managed to rise to his knees, arms at his sides he closed his eyes waiting for the end.
A moment passed before he realized that the other-dimension hulk should have been on him by now. He listened. All was quiet. Too quiet. He looked behind him in the direction of the beast, but all was still.
Declan tried to collect his thoughts, get his bearings, and figure out where he was in relation to town, his car, anywhere but here. But he hadn’t the slightest clue. He didn’t know what time it was, but he feared that sunrise was still a ways away.
Then he heard the faintest sound of clicking. He looked in the direction he had been running. He could have sworn the sound came from that way. He had been running right toward the creature. Somehow he had turned around, or perhaps the beast had cut him off. He heard the sound again, this time to his left. A hush fell over the woods. A twig snapped off to his right. Silence.
His skin crawled with the quiet, his ears ached for a breath of noise. Then, a cacophony of clicking erupted from the forest, surrounding Declan.
In sudden desperation he freed the dagger from his belt. He stood, his legs unsteady. The clicking was closer now, closing in, and still coming from every direction.
Declan tightened his grip around the dagger, not sure which direction to expect the attack. He didn’t know if he had the strength to fight off the beast with the dagger, but he could no longer run. That much was certain.
When the monster came at Declan, it was nearly on him before he saw it out of the corner of his eye. All the noise had been a distraction, when it lunged out of the darkness, it made no noise. Declan twisted and attempted to step out of the creature’s path. He sidestepped, avoiding the full brunt of the creature, but it still knocked him down when it passed.
It let out an audible snort, turning toward Declan. He didn’t know if it was still toying with him, or if it had underestimated him, but he didn’t think he could continue to outmaneuver the beast.
Declan regained his feet, his left side where the creature made contact burned. He adjusted his grip on the dagger, and faced the fiend. Despite looking right at the thing, he couldn’t react fast enough when it moved toward him. The creature used its front appendage in somewhat of a backhanded motion. The blow threw Declan off his feet and into the air. He landed hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him. He rolled onto his stomach. Vise-like pressure tightened around his lungs, until a sharp gasp delivered sweet air.
The creature paced around him. Declan rose, but remained half hunched, incapable of standing straight. The massive black form launched toward him, and Declan used his compromised position to his advantage, tucking into a ball and rolling forward and to the left of the creature. The beast missed Declan, but recovered, turning around and lunging at him. From his half-curled position on the ground, Declan dove between the creature’s legs and took a swipe with the dagger. The blade slid harmlessly across the bony plates of the beast before sinking into its leg. The creature let out a howl, its bony protrusions clicking in a frenzy. The second Declan popped to his feet and faced the creature, it took a swipe at his head with its muscled appendage. Its claws caught the side of Declan’s forehead. Declan swiped the dagger low, connecting the blade with the skin under the bony plates on the beast’s chest.
Blood from Declan’s forehead wound mixed with sweat and ran down his face, compromising his vision. He roughly rubbed his fingers across his eyes.
The creature was unfazed by its wound. Dr. Kazmarack let out a strangled cry of agony from somewhere in the distance. The sound drew the creature’s attention, and it crouched down and turned toward the cry. When it turned to the side, Declan raised the dagger over his head and thrust it down, burying its hilt deep into the neck of the creature. He pulled the dagger across the flesh and out. The creature fell and Declan took advantage and brought down the dagger again.
The plates on the beast’s front rose in a furor, an appendage whipped toward Declan, but then went limp. The clicking sound slowed, then faded. Declan almost fell onto the creature from exhaustion.
Declan started his way toward where he last heard the cry from the professor. The sky brightened with the first morning light. Fatigue overtook him, his legs buckled, and he crumpled to his knees. A burning sensation bloomed from his side and when he touched it with his hand, it raged into an inferno and stole his breath. He withdrew his hand, crimson covering his palm. He could feel the wound pulsating and the blood seeping from his side and rushing down his leg. White light flooded his vision and he rocked forward barely catching himself with his hands.
A clicking sound from behind caused him to turn. The creature was gone. But that wasn’t the troubling part. A blackened hole filled the spot above where the creature should have been. At first he thought it was a trick of the light. Hoped it was a trick of the light. But from the gash floating in mid-air trickled a substance that resembled the fluid exiting Declan’s own body. Blood dripped from the gash and pooled below the rift.
He caught sight of his arm in the morning rays. It was pale and shriveling before his eyes. He watched the blood dry and crackle. His desiccated arm reminded him of Dr. Kazmarack. He no longer noticed his fatigue, or the pain from his wounds.
His eyes lingered on the sight of his immortality, and he wished for death.
Declan heard the clicking again, it seemed farther off. The dagger was the key to Alger’s Dimension, which he unwittingly opened when he attacked the creature. The clicking came again, and this time, an answer came from the other side of the rift.
You can find all sections of “Alger’s Dimension” here.
