“Another nightmare?”

Sitting up drenched in sweat, trying to calm my nerves from having another horrible dream, it’s only when I hear the question asked that I realize there's someone in my room. It's morning already. The sun rays peeking through the window shades to my right, but my attention is drawn to the left where the sound came from. I should be able to sense him there.

‘Haven’t I gotten better?’

“Still haven't gotten over it, huh?”

Across the room, under the shadow of the light, a figure stands leaning against the wall with its arms folded. A 6-foot 3-inch male, mid 30's with black hair that vanishes in the shadow, and piercing brown eyes that … ‘I swear can see right through me.’

It bothers me.

In fact,

‘It's annoying.’

I am looking right at it him, but I still can't sense his presence. He is like a ghost.

My gaze turns to a glare ...

“Come on kid, get up. Breakfast will be ready soon.”

He walks across the room towards the window and pulls the curtains. The morning light brightens the room. I am blinded for a second, but then I feel the warmth from the light and all my anxieties kind of melt away. My nerves settle down.

“I called you a cab. It will be here in a couple of hours, Sam. So, let’s get you ready.”

Right, I am going to some foreign boarding school for a few years. I’ve been anxious for the day to finally get here from the moment I was told about it. But these past few days, I’ve been dreading today to be honest.

“Uh, sure ... … dad,” I murmur.

He takes a quick glance at me with a smile on his face, turns and heads straight for the door.

“I'll see you downstairs then.”

“... … Yeah.”

The door shuts slowly but my eyes remain fixed on it. My irritation rises again realizing that I'm still-

“… nowhere close,” I grumble.

‘He is like a ghost.’

I slowly get out of bed, dragging my feet to the bathroom. After a shower, I put on some of my best threads; a pair of black chic harem pants with silver chain accessories, a pair of white high tops with black trimming, a white short sleeve fitted t-shirt, and a black hooded jacket over it. I check myself out in the mirror.

‘I think this might give off a bad impression of me. Should I add some color? Or change the style up?’

I need to make an impression since it’s high school.

“Should I go with red … or blue?” I contemplate.

While going through my closet, splitting hairs about what to take, I remember something I was told, and I chuckle a bit.

“… Right … the students wear uniforms,” I scoff. I grab whatever and stuff it in my suitcase.

As I head downstairs with my belongings, I notice the smell of fried bacon filling the air. I place my luggage by the front door and head for the kitchen. I see dad finishing up preparing breakfast, with the food already served on the table. He hangs up his apron and picks up his coffee mug from the counter. He takes a sip and saunters toward me.

“You have perfect timing,” he says. “Come on, have a seat.”

I feel a light tap on my back encouraging me to the table. Dad is cheery, wearing a big smile on his face. It seems he got a little too excited preparing breakfast. It looks like the kind of food served at some saucy hotel. There's bacon, egg omelet, two small bowls of oatmeal with blueberries, sliced apples, toast, a choice of coffee, tea, or juice … Lunch, dinner … leftovers.

‘Jeezus,’

“Went a little be overboard, don't you think?” I tease him.

“Psh, this is nothing,” He says proudly, “you should see me during the holidays! Haha.”

“Yeah, I know.”

With a smile on my face, I grab a seat and begin to serve myself a plate. It all looks and smells great. Dad joins in, takes a sip of his coffee before setting his mug on the table and serving himself a plate as well.

“So, you're expecting a tip?”

“Usually no less than twenty percent, but today …” he takes a second, “... let me dote on my son for a bit” he says slowly. Exuding a warm and gentle smile.

I am taken back a little bit. Really. Dad has many faces, some of which I am sure I've never seen. Some I hope I never see. But looking at him now … the face he is making … he looks … sad.

“That's not fair,” I reply softly.

“Haha ha haha.”

‘He’s laughing it off.’

For a moment, we both become silent and all you could hear are the sound of our utensils smacking against our plates as we eat. While I finish up my plate, I notice dad is already done. His face turns serious.

“So, you'll be gone a full year,” he begins.

“I'll try to come back during the holidays, with your cooking skills and all,” I tease him.

“That’s cute,” he says cracking a smile. “But consider what the goal is. It's important you remain focused on it.”

Dad reaches into his chest pocket and pulls out a thumb drive.

“In here is intel I've gathered over the years: Places of interest; individual and corporate profiles; business transactions; potential witnesses; potential conspirators. There are leads to pursue and some that have gone cold, so you will need to be extra vigilant. I have mapped out danger zones and safe routes to places I have been. If you are lucky, these places will still have things you can use. Anything beyond that I can't help you with it.”

As I am sitting through this briefing, I start to feel the true weight of what I've trained for all these years. What I have been waiting anxiously to do. My nerves begin to tense up and I try my best to stay calm.

“Now listen. Your job is not to piece together everything in here, you are just going to shake things up a little bit. I’ll handle things from this side,” dad says in a stern tone. “There have been several similar incidences that have occurred since that night, Sam. Whatever is going on over there, could have larger implications for what will happen in this city, and we need to contain it. The Academy has a library with an extraordinary amount of information. Make good use of it and keep me informed.” (Dad)

“Yes!” I reply confidently.

“Remember your training and keep a leveled head. Trust me, we will find the one responsible for that night. We'll find out who killed your mo-”

[[ DING-DONG ]]

“Hughes, it's me!”

The doorbell cuts dad off and his focus shifts to the door.

“I'll be out in sec, Swanson!”

Dad gets up and starts clearing out the breakfast table. I lend him a hand so as to not waste too much time. After we are done, he hands me the thumb drive, and gives me a look as if to tell me that it must be kept secured. I am still feeling a bit anxious, but I know how valuable this is. I nod to let him know that I understood. He smiles, turns around, grabs his pistol and badge from the kitchen counter, and heads for the door. I follow closely behind him.

“In any case, you are still going to be attending school. If anything, make some friends for god sake.”

Dad's attitude lightens up again, and I can tell he is smiling. He holsters his pistol and turns to look at me while putting on his long black trench coat.

Sure enough, ‘He is smiling.’

“Yeah, some good friends,” he chuckles.

I force a smile out, but my anxiety isn't going away. There are too many emotions for me to deal with.

Plus, it will be a very long time before I’m going to see him again after today. Maybe that’s why I can't stop looking at him.

Dad opens the door. I see officer Dick Swanson leaning up against the wall finishing a smoke. His attention draws right to me.

“That's Detective Swanson to you kid. I feel like you aren't giving me a proper introduction.”

‘!!’

That caught me by surprise. His intuition still creeps me out. The 'detective' is a bit shorter than dad, about a couple of decades or so older, but looks more muscular. A burly looking fellow. He is wearing a similarly long trench coat in a brown color. Unlike dad, he has a matching hat to go with it, and his coat is always buttoned up.

“I hope you aren't planning on leaving that on my porch,” dad points at the detective.

“What? This cigar?” the detective reacts. “Do you have a trash can close by?”

“Use the trash in the back.”

“That's a bit of a way ...” the detective whines.

“Then don't smoke so early in the morning!” dad snaps at him.

‘They don't change these two.’

I understand they've been partners for over a decade, maybe even longer. Their first major case had to do with that night. So, I know it bothers the detective too that it has not been solved. I guess we all have something in it.

“So, kid, you'll be gone from the nest a while, huh? Spreading your wings and making your mark on the world? Heh heh heh.”

“Y-yeah, something like that,” I reply shyly. I'm still feeling a bit somber when thinking about it and the detective is making me miss home even when I haven't left. “Um … dad?” call out to my father.

I want to say something, but I can’t find the words. Dad places his hand on my head and looks at me with a warm smile.

“That's twice now kiddo,” he says.

‘Huh?’

“You'll do great kid,” he encourages me.

The detective nods his head, “You sure will,” echoing dad’s words. “And if anyone tries to get in your way, mow them down! Heh heh heh.”

“Don't be a horrible influence on my boy.”

“Ey, don’t show off how soft you’ve become over the years.”

“Parenting does that to you,” dad retorts, “you should try it.”

“Ha!” detective Swanson howls. “who do you think has been raising you all this time?”

‘Here they go again…’

“What?” dad reacts with a snarky tone.

“Oh, you remember. You was a scrawny brat when you came to me. Now, look at you.”

“Not this again,” dad exclaims. “I'm going.”

Dad walks off the porch, leaving the detective reminiscing about the past.

“-and it wasn't too long after I took you in you brought home the kid. I'm practically a grandfa- eh? ... Hughes?” the detective notices dad already gone. “Hey! Hey!! Hughes!! … What what an inconsiderate bastard, tsk.”

‘They're an amusing duo’

"I'll be seeing you,” the detective says and rushes down after dad.

A smile cracks on my face as I watch them start bickering while walking toward the car parked along the side of the road. It looks like the detective flicked his cigar into the street and dad's throwing a fit about it.

‘They don't change, those two.’

The detective gets inside the passenger side facing the house. Dad is standing by the driver's side with the door open. I can only see him from the chest up. They both turn their heads to face me. Both have gentle smiles on their faces. The detective tips his hat and dad just nods. I'm not sure what to make of these gestures, so I reluctantly raise my hand to wave goodbye. The detective's smile widens, and I think he even shook his head. I see dad chuckling as he gets in the car. They exchange a few words, laughing lightly and drive off.

“Should I have nodded back?” I ask myself.

That was awkward. If that was some form of passage to manhood, I'm pretty sure I failed.

“Damn, I should have nodded.”

 

************

 

Five minutes into the drive to the precinct, detective Collin Hughes and detective Richard Swanson sit in silence, contemplating. They have not said a word since they left Hughes' home. It is as if both men are trying to figure out what more they could do. This case is now out of their hands and they are not the type of people to sit and wait. Unfortunately for both detectives, that is exactly what they need to do at this point. They have left their case file with a fifteen-year-old boy about five minutes ago, and the idea of which has one of the detectives feeling apprehensive.

“Do we want to turn around and take him to the airport ourselves?” Swanson asks.

“No, his cab should be there soon.” Hughes replies.

The two detectives’ short exchange of words is followed by dead silence again. From the looks of this, it is going to be a long and grueling year for these men. They both let out sighs.

“… Think this could be the year?” Hughes asks.

“No…” Swanson with a quick response.

“I didn't think so either,” Hughes echoes the same feeling.

This case has done more to frustrate them than anything else in their profession. They have had times where they waited months to get leads, follow them for years, and get absolutely nowhere. High profile suspects that use their influence to bury evidence and skirt away from the law. And now, they find themselves in a situation where not only patience being necessary, but a large part of solving a frustrating case is dependent on the skills of a fifteen-year-old boy. For one of these detectives, this case also crosses into a whole new dimension he never thought existed.

“I have to say, Hughes, when you shared your findings with me some eight or nine years ago, I thought you were crazy.”

“I know.”

“Since then, we've had eleven more reported attacks, twenty-three deaths and not a damn thing on record. No arrests, no suspects. Just shit you're telling me can't be revealed to the public.”

“I know.”

“It's getting out of hand out there. The public doesn't feel safe, the media is ripping us to shreds, and the attacks are happening more frequently these last few years. They appear, slaughter, and vanish. It's as if people are being killed by air.”

“There are way too many moving pieces for us to be able to pinpoint who is cracking the door open for them.”

“Well, we've listed some tycoons and ran into some close calls, but there's no way for us to continue snooping around without catching unwanted attention.”

Hughes looks at his partner anticipating where this conversation is leading to.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “It won't do us any good to interrogate anyone this side.”

“Since we can’t find who’s letting them through this side, we need to find who’s doing that on the other side, huh?” Swanson says.

Hughes sighs. “That’s why I’m sending him over there,” he says feeling guilty. “I'm just using a kid's desire for revenge to do my own bidding.”

“You're a good father, Hughes. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise,” Swanson comforts his partner. “You've raised a good kid, and I know he appreciates everything you've done for him. He’ll run through hell for you.”

“I don't know how that's a good thing,” Hughes says feeling ashamed.

“Kid’s got enough spunk to go with all that talent,” Swanson says, “Have some faith in him. He's sure to shake things up.”

Hughes nods. “I know,” he says with a smile on his face. He has confidence that Sam will bring in results, after all, he trained him personally. “We'll keep our eyes open. People will start to scatter like roaches.”

 

************

 

So, I’m standing in front of some suspicious people at the airport. I’m not really sure what to make of it.

 

Now, when I got here, I showed my ticket at the check-in stand like any traveler. At first, the clerk got confused when she ran the ticket under a scanner. Within seconds, her desk phone rang. It looked like she was being given instructions because she ended up clearing my ticket. Then, she gave me directions where to go. When I arrived, I met two security personnel, a male and female, in an all-black suit, and ... ‘sunglasses?’

 

So, here I am standing in front of two weirdos advertising that this is a secret place to everyone passing by.

‘What kind of stupid movie scene is this?’

“Indoors guys?” I ridicule their shades, “I mean, really?”

The two suits look at one another in a robotic like manner and then back to me.

‘Ugh’

 The male suit steps up,

“You are the transfer?”

“Sam I am,” I reply with a media joke.

The suits are unfazed, doing their best to keep the mood boring.

“No?” I ask with a shrug. “Come on, that was funny.”

They stay mum and I just look at them like some kind of moron.

“It's a joke …” I groan.

“Are you the transfer?” the female suit insists.

“It's Sam!” I snap back, “thank you for asking.”

“We'll take your luggage,” she says and grabs my suitcase.

The male suit reaches his hand out to me.

“... Sure, sure.” I grumble and dump my carry-on bag on him.

“Come with us,” he orders, and the suits take off ahead of me.

We pass the second checkpoint with my ticket scanning without any issues. They lead me through a large glass-steel hallway, and into a lobby with over twenty elevator doors on each side.

“Whoa,” I gasp seeing the shiny glass and metallic walls all around me.

The lobby walls go up three stories with the third story wall made of a reflective glass and fitted at a slight inside angle. I can’t see through the windows, but I’m guessing that’s probably the central hub. I get this feeling of someone looking at me from behind the window.

“This way, transfer,” the male suit steps into my field of vision.

“It’s Sam,” I correct him, but he does not acknowledge it. “What do I call you guys?” I ask, “Or does suits work?”

There is no response to friendly attempt at conversating. The suit just continues on quietly.

“Not much of the conversing type huh?” I say and glance over to the female suit. “What about you, miss?”

Sure enough, she does not respond either.

“You too huh?” I nod and roll my eyes.

‘What is this, a funeral?’

After a short walk across the lobby, we arrive at the only elevator door open. There is a mechanism on the side of the door that pulls out a drawer. The suits place my luggage in it, and it closes. Then stand on either side of the entrance and gesture me to step inside. I eyeball the both of them as I walk inside. The doors slowly shut, and the elevator descends twenty-five stories.

“That’s way far underground,” I murmur to myself.

The doors open and I walk into a passenger car. “So, I’m in some kind of bus?” I ask myself as I gawk at this vehicle. The inside is like something of a high-grade transit bus. I look out the windows and all I am seeing is a tunnel leading into pure darkness.

“So, I’m in a subway train,” I mutter and take a seat around the middle of the car.

Time moves slowly. It feels like it’s been ages since I got here. I check the time and it is a little after nine. I’ve sat here over an hour and I’m getting antsy.

“When is this thing going to start moving?” I groan, “It's been a whole hour. What's with the delay?”

For the longest time I was thinking that other people would be joining, but no one has shown up. It's obvious I’m going to be doing this trip by myself.

“So, what are we waiting on?” I grumble.

It’s typical to feel impatient when stuck inside a ride that is being delayed, but my case is different since I’m going to a place beyond this world. I’ll be attending a school that exists on the other side of reality.

‘I’m not sure what that really means to be honest.’

I know nothing about where I'm going. I haven’t even seen a brochure. All I know, at least what I was told, is that it is a place to help people like me improve our abilities. A place in a different realm.

According to dad, there are remote access points all around the world that connects Earth to this different world. Like gateways. But the whole thing is a secret. The existence of the two worlds is kept hush by a small society within all the countries that have these gates. Apparently, even a whole country’s government might be kept in the dark.

“It’s beyond insane,” I mutter to myself.

It is hard not to believe it since people like me exist, and I’m already sitting here about to head to one of the first human settlements in a different space. I was even told that it is just like Earth, if not slightly more advanced.

‘A place to hone my skills.’

Well, at least that was the pitch from that scary old witch. We'll just have to find out when we get there.

“... If we ever leave this place.”

[[ Ding-Ding ]]

[ Attention all travelers. ]

‘An announcement?’

[ The time is 09:32 am. We will depart the station in T minus eighty-one seconds ... ]

“About time”

[ Travel time through the tunnel is fifteen minutes. Destination: Pern Dimension. City of Tillmor. To avoid the excruciating effects of time dilation at the border of our dimensions, you would need to equip your full set of magic armor or your mage robe … ]

“What is this thing talking about?” I react a bit puzzled.

I don’t really understand what this announcer is saying, but it doesn’t sound good

[ Ensure that your heads are covered .. ]

“Hold on a second-”

[ … The two elixirs you received after check-in take effect exactly one hour after being ingested. ]

“Elixirs? … Ingested?” I suddenly feel a shiver down my spine.

[ Along with your gear- ]

“What are you talking about?!”

[ the effects will provide both protection and healing against expected damages caused by the rupture of space-time. As the pod accelerates, the force- ]

“Hey! HEY!!” I yell at the intercom as I am starting to freak out.

‘Oh my god’

I stand up in a panic, pacing back and forth in search of a camera, a phone, something to get someone's attention

“I need to get out of here,” I tell myself as I rush for the exit door to try and pry it open.

It’s sealed shut. I turn and rush for another door,

‘Fuck!’

it is also sealed. My heart sinks and my body starts to tremble.

“Come on!” I cry, “Is this some kind of joke?!” I bash against the door.

The announcement goes on about the value of passenger safety, assuring riders that this trans-dimensional carriage offers greater shield protection from the effects of the warping of space-time, but that it is imperative for the other two conditions to be met for a safe journey.

“Bitch, what the fuck are you talking about?!!-” I rage at the nonsense I’m hearing. “No one told me anything about whatever you just said!”

[[ KA-CHANG ]]

I'm taken by surprise by the loud noise coming from under the car.

“N-n-no! Wait!” I yell, “What about the things I’m supposed to take?!”

I continue pacing back and forth looking for something in hear that can get me to talk to someone.

[ … Passengers must be seated and seat belts secure … ]

“Why is no one listening?!” I cry out in frustration.

There's slight wobble as the passenger car rises off the ground.

“Is this thing off the rail?!” I question myself and immediately grab onto the seat on my right for balance.

I peek out the window and confirm that the car is slowly rising off the ground.

“... Oh shit …” I gasp.

The vehicle’s shields slowly slide down to seal off the windows. I watch in complete disbelief that this is happening. I start thinking that there must be people watching me, there has to be. Consider the secrecy of the existence of another world, there has to be a video feed for every nook and cranny of all access point. I frantically search the car, running my hands throughout the whole surface, and trying to pry open any gaps I see.

[ … Departing in T minus thirteen seconds ... ]

“Well …”

[ … Count down in ten, nine ... ]

“Shit.”

[ ... Seven. Six. Five ... ]

I jump onto the closest seat and scramble to secure my belt. I grab onto both armrests and immediately take deep breaths.

“Alright!” I boast.

[ ... One. Launching! … ]

“Nnnnnnrggghhh!!”

I'm instantly pressed against my seat from the inertia generated by the car accelerating at breakneck speeds. The strong force that is only getting stronger each passing second crushes the front side of my entire body. It suffocating to the point that I cannot breathe properly.

Every second that passes I feel my weight doubling, gripping my teeth from the pain, and clawing into the armrests. Sweat drips down my face as I struggle to brave this unforgiving environment. The car is burning up and I can feel myself reaching my limit.

Suddenly, a surge is sent throughout the interior of the car to counter the pressure and cool down the temperature. With the pressure reduced, my body feels like it is being pump up. All my internal organs shift back into place, reversing everything, even this morning’s breakfast.

I vomit out everything that I had eaten since last night. My head feeling light, my vision blurring, and covered in bile and bits of crap.

“F-fu-fuck!” I gasp.

For a moment I think I'm in the clear, but the effects of the surge are only temporary. Within seconds, the temperature and the pressure shoot right back up again.

“AaaaaarrrrgggghhhhhH!!”

The immense pressure on my ribs forces them to fall against my lungs. I struggle to breathe and slowly blacking out. It feels like I am being flattened.

Soon, another surge stabilizes the environment. My eyes burst open and I gasp for air. I gag a bit as I feel myself about to vomit. I lean over the side of the chair to the isle and blood spews out of my mouth.

“I’m going to die here ...” I groan. “This is torture.”

The world is fading as I am struggling to keep my eyes open. My body is burning and I’m in so much pain. I am not sure how I am going to survive this.

The pressure cycles back again. I grunt and groan in agony. Blood starts dripping out of my ears, mouth, and nose. Clawing my bloody fingers into the armrests. For a moment, the pain is unbearable, but I soon start to lose my senses one at a time. I cannot even hear myself crying anymore. Every action demanding a lot of effort.

I open my eyes to see the front of the car bend and stretch around a center point. All the colors begin to blend and darken. The air gets thinner and thinner, and I feel myself unable to breathe anymore. I'm hoping for another surge, but it's not coming. My body is heavy, very heavy. I realize that I'm progressively getting slower. I'm really starting to believe that I'm going to die here.

“It-It. Ca-can't. Be-be. H-here … N-not. H-here … N-not. N-now ...”

‘An echo? Even sound is slow?

My thought process is at normal speed but everything else is slowing down.

‘How? Why??’

“...” I struggle to say a word.

With every passing second, I feel my life slipping from me. I'm frantically trying to grasp for anything to stay alive, but it's gone dark. I can't see a thing, and yet I feel everything. My mind is being driven insane. I labor to get up from my seat. It's a struggle. My body is moving so slow.

‘I need to get up. Get off this chair.’

I just can't stand for anything touching me. Even worse, my brain keeps telling me to gasp for air, but my body won't respond quick enough. Even the air feels like foam.

‘How can I even breathe something like that anyway?’

I feel like I weigh a ton. The crushing pressure around me is agonizing.

'How can I be dying here? I have to find them. I have to find the bastards who … '

‘I'm sorry … Mom … Dad’

… Dad