What Lies Beyond

‘Dad, where is Russell?’

‘The real one or the stuffed one?’ said Jack.

‘The stuffed one, the real one is sitting on me.’ shouted Ethan

Of course he is. Jack put down his book and walked out of his study to the bottom of the stairs.

‘Have you actually moved things and looked for him properly? I’ve told you, you don’t have x-ray vision.’

‘Well yeah but not the basement because you said I’m not allowed in there without you.’

‘That’s true, good lad. The real Russell probably hid stuffed Russell down there. I’ll bring him up.’

Jack went into the kitchen to get the torch before heading down into the basement. The door opened inwards and blocked the stairs which meant he had to close the door behind him before he could go down the stairs to reach the light switch. He was convinced the previous owner switched the hinges around on purpose just to mess with him as he couldn’t believe anyone would be that stupid.

The basement door swung open with a drawn out creak but closed silently, adding to the eeriness of the dark. He switched on the torch and the beam of light bounced down the stairs illuminating a spot at the bottom as if it were highlighting the stairway to heaven. Jack followed it down, widening the highlighted spot until he lifted it up and shone the light towards a work bench on the opposite wall. 

‘It has to be down here.’ he muttered to himself as he turned off the torch and turned on the main light. This had became a regular occurrence since they moved into the new house. Over the space of a month his son Ethan had lost four stuffed animals. Jack was convinced it was the dog hiding them but nothing had been buried in the garden and unless the dog was Houdini reincarnated then it was rather unlikely he was the culprit.

He walked over to his work bench to look for his sons favourite stuffed animal, a fluffy black cockapoo. He had the real thing upstairs, the bloody thing won’t leave his side so Jack didn’t really understand why he needed a toy version as well. Without it no one in the house, including the real Russell, would be getting any sleep so it was rather imperative that it was found. He looked in every crawl space, under old dust sheets, in every draw and cupboard in the room but it was nowhere to be found. 

Deflated, he turned off the main lights and made to go upstairs to break the news when something in the darkness caught the corner of his eye. In the corner of the room behind a set of golf clubs a purple hue lit up the lower portion of the wall. Assuming it was a toy of some sort he walked over and lifted the golf clubs out of the way, as he knelt down he subconsciously recoiled and stepped back tripping over the golf bag spilling balls and clubs all over the floor. He held his breath and listened for any reaction from anyone upstairs. Nothing, the only thing he could hear was a quiet hum coming from the corner of the room. It looked like a liquid swirling inside of a jar but it wasn’t contained by anything that he could see. He picked himself up and got on all fours and started to slowly crawl towards the substance, he picked up the 5 iron that had landed in front of him and held it out. He poked the swirling purple corner with the tip of the club but felt no resistance, thinking he wasn’t close enough to it he moved closer so he could have touched it with his hand if he wanted. He tightened his grip on the head of the club and lowered his hand so it was hovering just above the floor then jabbed the shaft towards the substance. It went straight through but the first time it happened it didn’t register so he did it two more times before he dropped the club in shock. It was half in the room and, he assumed, half out of the room.

Jack was sat in a squat position looking at the mysterious purple swirl like the first caveman to discover fire. There was no thought in his head, his internal monologue was stunned into silence. After an age of sitting there in total wonder his hand started to move, he knew he was in full control of his body but also knew what he was about to do was totally insane. He clenched his fist and stuck out his index finger, his hand shaking and sweat forming on his brow, he slowly moved his hand towards the target. He couldn’t help but have flashbacks to the first time he touched a womans breast, the only thing missing was the erection. 

His finger went straight through as if he was poking a cloud, the same as the golf club except this time the substance glowed brighter and grew in size. He pulled out his finger and poked it with the golf club but nothing happened. This time he put his full hand in and the purple light shone brighter and grew larger again. He moved closer and closer to the wall so his whole arm was in. The light was so bright it was blinding, he turned away and closed his eyes but it was still too much. Without a second thought he pulled his arm out and ran over to his work bench and grabbed his welding glasses before running over to the bottom of the stairs, no noise, with any luck they had fell asleep waiting for him to find the toy. With the welding glasses on he stuck his arm back into the substance, with the welding glasses shielding him from the light he could now see that it was big enough for his whole body to fit through.

I mean, I’ve came this far and I’m not dead yet. One quick look and then we’ll go upstairs and call someone.

He wasn’t sure who exactly he would call to come and deal with a mysterious glowing hole in his basement but he’d figure it out. After a couple of deep breaths he pushed his face through the substance and was met with pure darkness. There was no bright purple light on this side, there was no dull hum. It felt cold and dangerous, he felt like he was being watched, he felt like prey. Much like in a nightclub after 2am, nothing good happens in the darkness. He made to turn around and get up but as he put his hand on his leg he realised he had the torch, once again reminiscent of his caveman ancestors curiosity carried him onwards. He switched the torch on and lit up what looked to be an animals den, there were roots poking out through damp black soil, he traced the light around the soil walls until it reached the bottom. Down on the floor just out of reach were his sons lost toys, including Russell. He couldn’t lean down as he had nothing to grab onto with his other hand so he put the torch in his mouth and lay on his stomach, inching forward but being careful to not go far enough that his pivot point would cause him to fall headfirst into the den he reached as far down as he could but the toys remained just out of reach. The light from the torch reflected back at him from Russell’s eyes, it looked remarkably like the real one currently upstairs. The same white markings on it’s stomach, the same purple collar. 

Don’t look at me like that buddy.

He let out a deep sigh and backed out of the den and stood up in the basement, the substance shrank back to it’s original size. He walked over to a shelving unit next to his workbench where he kept his work out gear and took out his battle ropes from a box on the bottom shelf. He then piled all five of his 20kg plates on top of each other about five steps away from the substance. 100kg in total. He weighed approximately 88kg so once the battle rope was tied around the plates they should hold his weight and allow him to climb down into the den and back up. 

With the torch in his mouth he threw the other end of the rope through the substance into the den, again he got down onto his stomach but this time he shuffled backwards so his legs went in first. Just like before the more of his body that went into the purple swirls, the larger and brighter it got. Holding on tightly to the rope he kicked the tip of his shoes into the soil until the felt secure, he then leaned back as far as he could to apply plenty of pressure through his feet into the soil wall to prevent him from slipping. Slowly but surely he made it to the bottom, he hadn’t realised it before but there was a puddle and all the toys were soaked through. He picked each one up, rung it out and threw it through the now shrunken gap into the basement. He picked up Russell last and as he did so he heard the creak of the basement door.

‘Ethan?’ he paused and waited for a response but none came. ‘Ethan if that’s you bud just go back to bed. I’m bringing Russel up for you right now.’ he paused again but heard nothing.

He couldn’t blame Ethan for being curious as he felt like he’d been down in the basement for days. He threw Russell up through the hole and as he did so the light from the torch in his mouth lit up the face of the real Russell. His head was poking in through the substance with the other end of the battle rope in his mouth. 

He looked Jack square in the eyes and dropped it down into the den, hitting the puddle and throwing up cold, dirty water.

‘Hi Jack. Bye Jack.’ Russell disappeared, as did the hole created by the substance. 

Jack stood motionless, the light shining on where his son’s dog’s head was not 2 seconds ago. He began to frantically shine the torch on every inch of the den walls, his breathing was becoming laborious, his head felt light. There was no hole, there was no door, there was no way out. He bit down on the end of the torch and scratched and clawed at the soil until his nails became bloodied stumps and his fingers snapped. He then resorted to kicking. When his feet became numb and his legs stopped moving he spat out the torch and took out chunks of earth with his teeth. When his gums could no longer get any traction on the soil he lay back into this watery grave and floated, finally allowing for the darkness to carry him away.