Parallel Earth of Horror

I never believed in the supernatural. I was the kid who rolled his eyes at ghost stories, the one who laughed during horror movies. But all that changed the day I stumbled across the dusty old book in the corner of my school library, its spine cracked and faded. The cover read Dimensional Portals: A Guide to Alternate Realities. I thought it was just another cheesy book—until I opened it.

Inside, there were sketches of bizarre worlds and strange creatures, each more grotesque than the last. My pulse quickened as I turned the pages, drawn in by the promise of adventure. One particular illustration caught my eye: a swirling vortex with the words Follow the whispers, but beware what calls you home written beneath it.

That night, unable to shake off the urge, I gathered my courage and decided to try out the “method” outlined in the book. I turned off all the lights in my room, lit a single candle, and followed the instructions. I felt silly, but as the minutes ticked by, a tingling sensation coursed through me. The air crackled, and I swore I could hear whispers beckoning me.

Suddenly, I was enveloped in a flash of blinding light. The candle flickered, and when it steadied, I found myself in a dimly lit forest that was eerily quiet. The trees towered over me, their gnarled branches twisting like skeletal fingers against a murky sky. I felt a strange sense of foreboding creeping in, but excitement pushed me forward.

The path was narrow and uneven, and as I walked, I began to notice odd things about this world. Shadows darted between the trees, whispering secrets I couldn’t quite understand. The ground crunched beneath my feet, not with leaves, but with what felt like brittle bones. My heart raced as I pressed on, every instinct screaming at me to turn back.

Then I saw them—figures lurking in the darkness, their shapes distorted and grotesque. Their eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the dim light of a crescent moon. Panic surged through me, but curiosity kept my legs moving. I edged closer, trying to see their faces.

“Welcome,” one figure rasped, stepping into the dim light. Its skin was stretched tight over its skull, its mouth curling into a smile that revealed rows of jagged teeth. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

The others joined in, a chorus of raspy voices harmonizing with the rustling leaves. “We’ve been waiting. We want to play.”

Play? My mind raced as I took a step back, my breath quickening. I needed to get out of here. I turned and ran, branches slapping at my face, the whispers rising in pitch, filling my head with chaos.

I ran until my legs burned, until I collapsed by a small, murky pond. I splashed water on my face, trying to calm my racing heart. But when I looked into the water, I didn’t see my reflection. Instead, I saw those creatures, their eyes wide and eager. I stumbled back, terrified.

“Come play with us!” they echoed, their voices merging into a cacophony of horror. I could feel their presence behind me, creeping closer. I turned to flee once more, but it was too late. They were everywhere, encircling me, their laughter shrill and penetrating.

“Don’t be afraid!” one of them said, its face now impossibly close. “It’s all a game. It’s all just a game!”

In a panic, I shouted, “I want to go home!” But my voice echoed back at me, mocking my plea.

Then, just as I thought I would be swallowed whole by this nightmarish reality, I felt a sudden shift. The world around me shimmered, and for a moment, I could see my own bedroom. The flickering candle, the familiar posters on the wall—it all looked so inviting.

But before I could reach out, the vision faded, and I was back in the forest, the creatures closing in. Their voices, now a sweet melody, rang in my ears. “You’re home now, you’re one of us!”

It was then that I realized the truth—the truth that all my disbelief had shielded me from. I was never meant to return. This wasn’t a parallel earth; it was a trap. A realm created from the darkest parts of my own mind. The creatures were me, reflections of my own fears and insecurities, yearning to pull me into their world forever.

As I was consumed by their laughter, I understood that sometimes, curiosity doesn’t just lead you to new adventures. Sometimes, it opens the door to your deepest horrors, and once that door is cracked, there’s no going back.