House of Shadows

"This place is awesome," I said.

"There's something wrong with the pool," said Oen.

"This place doesn't have a pool," I said.

"Exactly!"

"Oen, for the last time, we can't afford a place with a pool."

"Then what's the point of buying a house?"

Derek walked back in from a bedroom he was examining. "Two things," he said. "One: This room is mine. I call dibs. Second: Who cares about a pool? It's $500 a month, split three ways, and it has three bedrooms."

"We could dig a pool," said Oen.

"How do you even do that?" I asked.

"With a shovel."

We stood in the living room of our future home. Three months ago, Derek had called me up and said, "Hey, there are about five million roaches in my apartment, and my roommate is moving to Texas. Do you want to buy a house?" I told him no and hung up the phone. About three days later my landlord told me that I wasn't allowed to play "Here I Go Again," by Whitesnake at full volume at 3AM every morning. I politely said, "Well, what the hell time of day can I blast Whitesnake?!"

I called Derek back and asked if he liked Whitesnake. He said he didn't, but I assumed he was lying. I mean who the hell doesn't like Whitesnake?

Anyway, after looking at a few houses we found one with three bedrooms and called Oen. Now, we were looking at about $200 a month including utilities.

"Fine," said Oen. "We'll take it."

"Well, it is a buyer's market," said Herman the Realtor. He had used that phrase about 400 times since we had gotten to the house.

"It is?" said Oen sarcastically. "Did you hear that guys? A buyer's market. And we're buyers!" Herman was clearly not impressed. "Aw, don't look so put out, Herbert. It's a buyer's market after all."

"Can I be frank with you?" he said to me, ignoring Oen.

"I'll be Justin," said Oen and burst into a fit of laughter.

"Listen," I said, pulling him aside. "I know he's sort of a jerk, but you're doing us a real favor here."

"No, it's not about that," he said.

I was a little confused. He had just gotten a face full of Justin Oen's... personality, and he seemed unphased by it.

"The former owners of this house," he paused. "They experienced some... things."

"What? Is this place haunted?" said Derek, his mouth half-full of Cheetos.

"Where did you get those?" I asked.

"I brought them with me," he said.

"I don't know if it's haunted," Herman said. "They just told me I should let you know before selling it to you."

"What kinds of things did they experience?" I said.

"Lights flickering, loud bumps while they were sleeping, stuff like that." It was strange. Herman seemed to have a different personality when he was being frank.

"Did anyone drown in the pool years ago," said Justin. "Is that why they took it out?"

"Took what out?" asked Herman.

"The pool."

Herman turned back to me. "I don't believe in that kind of stuff. I've been selling houses for eight years, and I've never had a buyer call and tell me he had ghosts. Roaches, sure. But, not ghosts. My guess is they thought it would sell better to college kids, if they had a ghost story to tell."

"Well, that was a really shitty ghost story, Herbert," said Oen.

"Herman," he said.

"No, I'm Oen."

Herman turned back to me. "I'll drop off the papers tomorrow. You can start moving your stuff in if you want.

"That was quick," said Oen. "I just told you we'll take it."

"Yeah, we actually told him that yesterday," said Derek.

"You guys bought a house without consulting me?"

"Congratulations on purchasing a new home," he said, back to the Herman personality. He told us to call him if we had any questions and left.

Chapter 2: Shamohcrapwhatthehell

After we had moved our stuff in, we ordered a pizza.

"So, do you think the place is haunted?" said Oen, his mouth half-full of pizza.

"He never said it was haunted," I said.

"Ok, well what do you call 'noises at night?'"

"You're so naive," said Derek.

"So's your face," he said.

"Even if it is haunted, we've dealt with worse before," said Derek.

"What do you mean?" asked Oen.

"The bus," said Derek.

"Oh, right."

It was true. We had been through worse. Much worse.

About a year ago, we had stumbled onto an abandoned bus that transported any passengers on it to the "Other Side."

The Other Side of existence.

The world you know exists on its own. But, there's a separate world that exists parallel to ours. Derek had to explain this to Oen and me about five times before we started to grasp it. Even now, I think he gets it more than we do. He says it's like looking into a mirror. You see an entirely different existence. Everything is the same; everything is different. Yeah, Derek definitely gets it more than we do.

The Other Side is a world that's almost exactly like ours, except that it's filled with hatred-fueled demonic creatures whose only goal is to murder any living thing. Also, watches don't work for some reason. It's not exactly a popular vacation destination.

Since our encounter with the Bus, I've had a recurring nightmare. In the dream, I'm walking down a hallway of stone. There's a dim light on the walls around me, but no light bulbs or fires anywhere. The hallway seems to go on forever, but just when I think about turning back, I come to a door. It's made of stone and there are strange symbols covering it.

There's no handle. I stand there for a long time and try to figure out how to open it. Suddenly, I'm inside. I see a giant open room. The ceiling is miles above me. In the center of the room is a shadowy figure in a black cloak. The figure starts to turn around... and I wake up in a cold sweat.

"We should investigate," said Oen.

"Investigate what?" said Derek.

"We could start with the basement."

"We don't have a basement," I said.

"Then what's under the trap door in my bedroom?" said Oen.

"Trapdoor?" said Derek. "Are you serious?"

"Derek, have you ever known me to not be serious?"

We followed him into his bedroom. We had only had time to move in the bare necessities, so I was unsurprised when I saw about thirty posters of half naked swimsuit models lining the walls. He hadn't even brought his bed yet. There was just a sleeping bag lying on the floor next to a case of Dr. Pepper. That was Oen down to the letter.

Oen pulled up a patch of carpet. A square of wood was cut out with a metal handle on one side and two hinges on the other. He grabbed the handle and tried to pull up, but it wouldn't move.

"It feels like it's locked from the other side," said Oen.

"Herman didn't say anything about a basement," said Derek.

"Maybe the people who lived before us didn't tell him. They put carpet over it and," I paused here. "Hang on, how did you find out about it?" I asked Oen.

"The patch of carpet here was really cold, so I pulled it up to see what was under it."

I stared at him with amazement. "Only you," I said.

"Hey, maybe there's a dead body locked in there, and that's what's haunting the house," said Oen.

"The house isn't haunted!" said Derek.

"Now, who's being naïve?" said Oen.

I reached down to feel the door. It felt like there was a freezer on the other side.

"It is really cold," I said.

"Well, it's not opening up tonight, if ever, so we should all just probably go to bed," said Derek.

I was feeling tired, but I was a little creeped out by that point. After finding an immovable trap door and hearing Herman's chilling tale of creaky floorboards, I wasn't in the mood to sleep. So, I stayed out in the living room and watched TV.

I've never quite understood how infomercials can be so damned addictive. I was intently listening to a very excited young man tell me how the ShamWow could change my life, when the TV shut off. I had only just forgotten the weirdness of today, and now it was back. I grabbed the remote and turned it back on. For a moment, I thought I saw a cave on the screen, but then it was back to ShamWow.

I got up and went to the refrigerator. Behind me, I heard the TV shut off again. This time I thought back to what Herman had told us.

I looked around, as if expecting to see some ethereal creature holding the TV remote. I decided that the TV must be broken and went to bed. I fell asleep with the lights on.

Chapter 3: Illegally Parked

I woke up at about 4 AM to the sound of a truck passing by. This wouldn't be that strange except the truck passed by my bed.

I sat up and realized that at some point during the night, my bed had been moved to a nearby gas station.

A cop car pulled up beside my bed, and a chubby cop with a pink face stepped out. He looked a lot like President Taft, except he had that bad comb-over look that all cops seem to have here in Ohio.

"Excuse me, sir," he said. "I'm gonna have to ask you to move your bed."

"I'm sorry, officer," I said. "I didn't know I couldn't park my bed here." I laughed. Officer Taft didn't.

"Have you been drinking at all, son?"

"No, dad, I swear."

"Now, boy, you better cut out the smart-ass routine, or I'll take you in." I didn't know if he could actually arrest me for waking up in a gas station, but I shut up anyway.

"Do you know how you got out here?" he asked

"No."

"Do you know anyone who would have put you out here as a prank?"

Oen.

"No," I lied.

"Well, you ain't committed any crime, and it don't look like this was your fault. How about I give you a ride home, and have your bed dropped off to you in the morning?" he said.

"Officer, I should admit something to you," I said. He raised his eyebrows. "I don't have insurance for this bed." I narrowly avoided him handcuffing me and hauling me in.

He pulled up to the house, and I stepped out.

"Don't let me catch you sleeping at that gas station again," he said.

"Just that one? Or..." He sped off down the lane.

I walked up to my door. Locked. And for some reason, my keys weren't in my pajama pants. I pounded on the door until Derek opened it up.

"Did you lock yourself out?" he asked, clearly half asleep.

"Not exactly," I said. "Come look in my room."

"Why?"

We walked into the bedroom, and sure enough my bed wasn't there. For a moment, Derek said nothing. I thought for a moment that he had fallen asleep again. And then,

"What?" he said. "Did you clean it?"

I looked at him like he was insane.

"Hey, I thought you moved your bed in today," he said.

"Derek, I did."

Finally, his eyes grew wide.

"Mat, where did you put your bed?"

"Well, I left it at the gas station, two blocks over."

"What?"

I told him the story of my night, including the TV turning off by itself.

"Well," he said. "Sleep on the couch. Make sure you have your keys in your pocket, so if the couch ends up at a Wal-Mart, you can come back in without waking me up." He turned and went into his bedroom.

I had never woken Derek up before, but I learned that night, that he was not a morning person.

The next morning, (and by morning, I mean about Noon) I told Oen about my bed and the gas station.

"Man," he said. "I'm glad that didn't happen to me."

"Thanks," I said. "I appreciate your concern."

"No, it's just that I sleep naked so I probably would have been arrested."

"That absolutely tops the list of things I didn't want to know about you."

Derek stepped out of his bedroom.

"Hey, Mat. I've been thinking about your bed," he said.

"Haha! Gay!" exclaimed Oen.

"Yeah, well..." he said. "Shut up." Most of Derek's comebacks ended with these words. "Anyway, Mat, I thought..."

I started to laugh. "Oh, I get it. Thinking about my bed. Gay. Classic." I high-fived Oen. Yes, we're guys in our early twenties. We still high-five.

"Mat, your bed is too big to get out the front door or your window."

"Not as big as your bed though," said Oen.

"How did it get moved all the way to..."

"Cause you're so fat," said Oen.

"How did your bed get moved all the way to the gas station, when it shouldn't even have been able to get out the front door?"

Later that day, my bed was delivered. Derek was right. It was impossible to get it through the door without taking it apart.

"Maybe, the ghost took it apart and..." Oen paused. "No, that doesn't make sense."

We had been trying to work out this problem in our living room. On the television, the Powerpuff Girls were saving Townsville from an evil monkey. If only real life were that simple.

"If only we had video cameras or something set up here," Derek said.

"Yeah, any recording of last night would be helpful," I said.

"Security tapes!" exclaimed Derek.

"What?" Oen and I said in unison.

"The gas station! It would have security tapes," he said.

Chapter 4: Oen's Plan

So, we drove down to the gas station and approached the counter.

"Hi, um, I was here last night," I said. "In a bed."

"Oh, man. Bill told me about that. You really freaked him out, man," the attendant said. He had long blonde hair and a goatee. He had a potbelly and looked like a forty-year-old hippie.

Derek stepped up. "We were just wondering if we could look at the security tapes from last night... to see how he got here."

"Ah, no can do, dude," he said. "Company policy. Only the managers can look at the tapes."

"Are you a manager?"

He laughed. "Haha, man. They would never make me a manager."

We walked outside.

"Well, that didn't work out," I said.

"We have to steal those tapes," said Oen.

"What?" I said. "We are not stealing anything."

"Mat, the decision's already been made. The question is how to do it," said Oen.

"No, we are not stealing anything."

"I'm gonna have to agree with Mat on this one," said Derek.

"Do you guys want to find out what happened last night or not?"

"I'm ok with not figuring it out actually," I said.

"Are you ok with waking up at a gas station every night and rebuilding your bed every day?"

I said nothing.

"Ok," he said. "Here's how we do it."

An hour later, Derek and I pulled up to one of the pumps in my Toyota. Derek began to fill up the tank. He pulled out the hose and spilled gas on his shoe.

I dropped the lighter, as planned, on his foot and it instantly caught flame.

"Shit," I yelled and ran inside. "Hey," I yelled at the hippie. "My friend's on fire. Help! Help!"

The hippie, thinking quickly grabbed the fire extinguisher and ran outside. As we ran out the door, Oen slipped inside.

The hippie sprayed off Derek's foot, completely missing at first, but finally hitting the flames and putting them out.

"Dude! That shit was nuts!" the hippie yelled.

"Oh, man," said Derek. "I think I have some serious burns. Tell me how bad it is." As the hippie leaned down to examine Derek's leg, I glanced inside. No sign of Oen. He had claimed that he would be able to find the tape quickly, having worked at a gas station before. I was starting to think that the "management-only" rule was universal when it came to security tapes, and Oen was certainly never a manager.

"It looks like the fire didn't get through your socks, dude," said the hippie.

"Oh right, I forgot I wore my flame-retardant socks today."

Still no sign of Oen. I motioned for Derek to keep going.

"But, I've gone through so much mental anguish. I might have to call my lawyer."

"Ah, Dude, no. Don't do that, man," he said. "Hey, I'll get that tape you guys wanted. I'll let you have it, man. Just don't tell anyone, you know."

This caught us both off-guard.

"Umm, no. No. Don't worry about the tape," I said. "Just..." Oen walked out of the gas station and back around to the side. "Just don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll be fine. Come on, Derek. Let's go."

Derek jumped up. "Hey, I don't think these burns are that bad after all." And we drove back to the house.

"Where on Earth did you get flame retardant long underwear?" I asked Oen.

"It was flame retardant?" he said.

We stared at him. Derek examined his leg again.

"Guys, get over here," he said. "It's starting."

We had to fast forward to 3:56 AM, before we saw it.

On-screen, the gas pumps can clearly be seen. Then, from the left side of the screen, my bed glides in, with me still fast asleep on it. It stops for a moment, then turns around, and lowers to the ground. Then, the bed spins a full 360 degrees and stops again. My blankets are suddenly pulled to the foot of the bed, but I remain fast asleep. My pillow is violently pulled out from under my head, and I sleep through this too. A few moments later, I wake up, presumably after a truck passes by. A few seconds later, a cop car pulls up.

"Well, that told us nothing," I said.

"Except that you're a really heavy sleeper," said Derek.

"Not as heavy as you, though," said Oen.

"It still doesn't explain how..."

"Cause, you're fat," said Oen.

"It still doesn't explain how you got out of the house in the first place," said Derek.

"Hey, I just called you fat, Derek."

"And nothing at all happened to you guys?" I asked.

"Derek, you're fat. Fatty."

"Nothing happened to me," said Derek.

"Nothing happened to me either," said Oen, rejoining the conversation.

"Maybe one of you guys are next," I said.

"Man, I guess I'd better wear clothes tonight," said Oen.

"Excuse me?" said Derek.

"Don't ask," I said.

Chapter 5: Something Wrong with Our House

That night it took me a little longer to fall asleep. I kept waiting to feel my bed rise up off the floor and then teleport to a Denny's or something.

But, nothing happened. Eventually, I fell asleep. A few hours later, I was woken up by a strong breeze blowing at my covers. I sat up and saw the window was closed. Now that I was up, the breeze had gone away. I glanced over at my alarm clock.

I wondered why it was getting bigger, and then it hit me. Literally. In the face.

The clock dropped to the floor and I heard a heavy thump from the room next to me. Oen's room. Then a very loud "Oh shit!" from Oen, and footsteps out into the living room. He appeared in my doorway.

"Mat, the cellar door in my room..."

And my door slammed closed. I reached for my bedside lamp, but it slid away from me off the table and onto the floor. I felt my covers being ripped off of me again.

"Oen! Hey, Somebody!" I screamed, in a very brave masculine way, that may have sounded like a young schoolgirl who has just seen a spider.

I heard another crash. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere closer to Derek's room.

"Mat!" screamed Oen as he pounded on my door. "Open the door!"

I heard Derek scream from across the hall.

I wasn't willing to step off my bed for fear of what may be underneath, ready to pull me into further darkness.

A loud slam from Derek's direction again. It sounded like his bed had just been dropped to the floor.

"Derek," Oen yelled. "What's going on?"

"Oen!" Derek yelled back.

And then it stopped. Everything. Even the strong wind in my room that I hadn't noticed until it had gone away, disappeared.

I leapt off the bed and threw open the door. Oen was standing in the middle of the room. Derek ran out of his bedroom and collapsed on the floor.

"Oh shit!" he gasped. "What the hell is going on?"

"I think this place might be haunted, Derek," said Oen.

We spent the rest of that night in the living room, sitting against a wall.

It was noon before we woke up, still sitting against that wall.

Oen got up and went for the cereal.

"You guys want some Lucky Charms?" he asked. "They're magically delicious." Oen was clearly just trying to lighten the mood; we obviously knew how magically delicious Lucky Charms were.

"I don't feel like eating," said Derek.

"That's a first for you," replied Oen.

"Shut up," Derek seemed to be a little more stressed than the rest of us.

"Derek," I said. "What happened to you last night?"

"I woke up because I heard you and Oen yelling, and my bed was floating almost to the ceiling and rising slowly. And on the ceiling, in front of me, was this thing. It was all black, like it was made of shadow. Except for it's face. It was smiling at me. Like an evil smile. It smiled like it was going to kill me, and it was just making this thing ecstatic. Then, it saw that I had opened my eyes, and its face changed. Not just the expression, but it totally warped into a different face that looked shocked, and then its face went away completely. And then the whole thing disappeared, and my bed dropped to the floor."

"Had you seen the thing before?" I asked.

"Are you thinking they could be from the Other Side?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Well, no," he said. "It wasn't even like anything I had seen before, which makes me think that it's a possibility." We looked at Oen.

"How bout you?" I said.

"Well, something slammed really hard against the trapdoor in my room," said Oen. "I woke up and just sprinted into the living room. I saw Mat was awake and then his door slammed shut. I tried to open it, but it wasn't moving."

"Wow, you got off easy," said Derek.

"That's cause it knows not to mess with me," he said.

I told them everything that had happened to me, from the flying alarm clock to the moving bedside lamp.

"What are we going to do about this?" said Oen. The Lucky Charms sat on the counter forgotten.

"We can't sleep here again," I said.

"We could sell it," said Derek.

"And leave it in the hands of people less qualified to handle the situation?" said Oen. "That would just be irresponsible."

"We're not qualified to handle this situation, Oen!" said Derek. "We could have died last night."

"So, you're willing to just let the people who buy this house next to die in our place?" said Oen. He had a point. None of us were up to the task of choosing someone to die for us.

"We'll take care of it ourselves," said Oen.

"Well, what are we going to do?" I asked him.

"We could call... one of those... umm," he paused. "Not atheists. That's not right."

"Exorcist?" said Derek.

"No, we need to find someone to get the exorcist out," he said.

"An exorcist is a person who expels an evil spirit out of a home," said Derek.

"But, the girl in the movie was possessed by an exorcist."

"She was possessed by a demon. The exorcist took it out of her."

"Ok, well, where do we find one of those?"

"We could call a priest," said Derek.

"Ok, you're in charge of finding an exorcist," said Oen.

Chapter 6: Tim the Exorcist

Later that day, Oen brought his bed and we helped him set it up in his room. At one point, I almost thought I heard something tapping at the trapdoor.

A few hours later, Derek came out of his room with the phone in his hand. "I found one," he said. "He's not a priest, but he'll do.

Derek had spent the last few hours looking for people who specialize in this sort of thing. Oen kept protesting that we specialized in this sort of thing. Eventually, a compromise was made. Derek could bring in one "professional" exorcist, and if it didn't work. We would try to open up the trapdoor in Oen's room.

"His name is Tim L. Sypher," said Derek. "According to his website, he's successfully de-ghosted over a thousand homes."

"De-ghosted?" I said.

"It's a direct quote from his website."

"And this is the best guy you could find? The De-ghoster?"

"If he has solved this problem a thousand times, then he'll be able to do it here," Derek said.

"Why didn't you just call a priest?" I asked.

"I don't know any priests."

"These ghostbuster guys are all scam artists," said Oen.

"Well, we made a deal, so you sit back and shut up while this guy, Sypher, is here," said Derek.

At around 9, a knock came at our door.

Tim Sypher, professional de-ghoster, looked to be in his early twenties. He was a young, black, skinny man dressed in an Iron Maiden t-shirt and a leather jacket. A cigarette dangled from his mouth as he stepped through our doorway.

"This 331?" he said.

"Yeah, you're Mr. Sypher?"

"Call me Tim."

"Ok," said Derek. "Come in."

"Alright. We should take care of some business before I get into this," he said. "I charge $350 an hour. No refunds. My price is non-negotiable," he said in a quick monotone voice.

"350 an hour?" said Oen, standing up. "That's almost as much as rent!"

"Don't worry," he said. "It won't take an hour." This guy seemed way too confident for his own good.

"Could you put that out?" I asked pointing to his cigarette.

"It helps me work," he said. "Where's most of your trouble centered?"

"Well, it's sort of all over," I said. "There's a trapdoor in one room that..."

"Trapdoor. That's your problem," he said. Was this guy an exorcist or a plumber?

I leaned over to Derek. "Maybe we should have called a priest."

We led him to the trapdoor. He leaned down and grabbed the handle. Just like before, it wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he pulled.

"It's locked," he said.

"Wow, excellent sense of deduction," said Oen. "That was a tough case to crack."

"Hey, man. If you don't want me to do this. I got a house on Ninth Street on my list."

Don't do it, Justin. I thought.

"What? Is their sink clogged?" said Oen.

"If you don't take this seriously..."

"He's just kidding. We really appreciate what you're doing," said Derek.

Tim glanced at Oen.

"Ah, don't worry about it. There's a skeptic in every house,"

As Derek and Tim walked toward my room, Oen leaned over to me. "Skeptic? I've seen shit that would make his head explode." He was right. I seriously doubted that Tim had ever dealt with anything as serious as the Other Side.

"You told me on the phone that your bed moved," he said to Derek.

"Yeah, Mat's actually moved first."

"Ok, were you in the room when it happened?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I was asleep.

"Ok," he took out a notepad and started writing. Justin rolled his eyes. "And... what? Did it start to shake? What happened?"

"Well," I said. "You're not gonna believe this."

"Man, come on. I have heard everything. I've seen stuff that you wouldn't believe."

That's doubtful, Tim.

"Now, come on. What happened?" he asked.

"Ok," I said. "I fell asleep in my bed, and I woke up, still in my bed, at the gas station two blocks over."

Tim looked up, and laughed at me.

"Ok, man. I appreciate you trying to lighten things up, but really though. What happened?"

I looked at him without saying anything.

"Your bed was at a gas station two blocks away? And you were still asleep in it?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Bullshit," he said.

"Actually, we have it on tape if you need to see some proof," said Oen. "But, I'm sure you've seen all kinds of stuff like this before."

"Ok, sure, show me the tape."

We sat him down on the couch and put in the stolen security tape, which Oen had now marked as "Nepolean Dinomite." His spelling, not mine. I gave him a sideways look.

"What?" he said. "I had to make sure no one would steal it."

"What? Napoleon Dynamite is hilarious!" said Tim.

I was liking this guy less and less by the second.

He skipped forward to the part where my bed pulls in to the gas station. Tim watched slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

"That's messed up," he said, as the tape ended.

"What?" said Oen. "So, this is new to you?"

"A little bit," he said.

"So what do you suggest, genius?"

"I should stay the night."

"Woah," I said. "There's no way we can afford for you to spend the night. Not at your prices."

"I'll do this one for free," he said.

"Pro bono?" said Derek. Justin and I held back laughter. Bono.

"I'll have to sleep in the room with the trapdoor," he said.

"My room? I don't think so, man."

"I have to. That's where it's all coming from."

"Come on, Oen," said Derek. "You can pitch a tent and go camping for one night."

"I didn't even want this guy here, and I have to give up my room?" he said. "Fine, but don't sleep in my bed or I'll never get the smell of smoke out. Use the sleeping bag."

"Sure, whatever," said Tim. "Where's your bathroom?" We showed him, and walked into the living room.

"You guys suck," said Oen. "We have a con artist, who has no clue what he's doing, stealing my room. And now he's using our bathroom! So help me, if he steps near our pool..."

"We don't have a pool."

"I know!" he said angrily.

"Just shut up, we're getting a free..." I began.

"De-ghoster," said Oen.

"Shut up," said Derek. "Just put away the tape."

A few minutes later, Oen had taken three cases of Dr. Pepper out of his room.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I don't want him drinking my Dr. Pepper," he said.

"That's all you have in your room that you don't want him to take?"

"Yeah, I like to live simple."

"You're simple, Justin," I remarked.

"Thank you," he said. "Hey, where is that douchebag anyway?"

"I think he's still in the bathroom," I said.

"I was talking about Derek."

"I'm over here," said Derek from the kitchen. He was holding a slice of pizza in one hand and a Mountain Dew in the other.

"Wait. That Tim guy is still in the bathroom?" said Oen.

"Do you think he's alright?" I asked.

"Who cares? I just need to take a shower before I go to bed. I can't call in sick to work anymore or they'll fire me," said Oen.

Derek knocked on the bathroom door.

"Hello? You alright in there?" he said.

The phone started to ring.

"Is he answering?" I asked as I walked to the phone.

"Tim?" Derek said to the door.

"Hello?" I said into the phone.

"Is this Mat?"

"Yeah, this is Mat."

"It's Tim," he said.

"Derek, Tim is on the phone," I said.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to observe your house tonight," he said.

"What's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm somewhere in Texas," he said.

"Excuse me?" I said. "He says he's in Texas!"

"I went into your bathroom and took a piss, and I stepped out onto this dirt road," he said. "Then I turned around and I was staring into a freaking Port-A-Potty, man! Then, I walked to the closest house and the old guy who lives there says I'm in Texas."

"That's a long way from Ohio, Tim," I said.

"No shit, Sherlock," he said. "Listen, you're on your own with that house. There's nothing I can do to help. I suggest you just leave."

Ah, crap.

I hung up the phone and looked up at Derek and Oen.

"Well, Tim's in Texas and he says we're on our own."

"Finally," said Oen. "We can do this my way."

"We're screwed," I said.

"Ah, we'll be fine."

"So screwed."

Chapter 7: Mat, Derek and Oen Get Screwed...I mean...

That night I fell asleep around midnight, only to wake up to the sound of screams. But, they weren't Derek or Oen. It sounded like a woman, or women. Horrible, twisted screams that sounded like they were being brutally tortured.

My room had pulled inward, so that I felt like I was in a coffin. Maybe, I was in a coffin. The screams sounded like they were right outside of my room/coffin.

It was getting hot. It felt like I was being burned alive.

More screams. Coming from all around me.

A hand reached in from the side of the coffin and grabbed my face. I felt claws dig into my cheek, and I screamed, but the hand only pulled harder. Until I felt like it was going to pull my head right through the side of the coffin.

Just when I thought my head was about to pop off of my shoulders, my room expanded outward again and I jumped off my bed. But, hands gripped at my ankles, wet hands, and pulled me down. I was sliding across the floor with ease. It was wet with something that looked suspiciously like blood in the moonlight. I couldn't grip onto anything, as the hands pulled me further and further under the bed. I was screaming harder than I ever had before.

As I realized that these were my last moments, I felt like crying. I was going to be murdered by the creatures under my bed. The creatures that I was afraid of when I was five years old. The same creatures that I was afraid of every time I stepped off my bed in a dark room, even into my twenties.

Just as I heard a low growl in my ear and smelled the putrid scent of rotting flesh and vomit, I felt myself being pulled over an edge, and I was falling.

I landed hard on a dirt floor. I was in a cylindrical room with torches lining the walls. An opening in the side of the room led down a stone hallway.

I leapt out of the way as a small walrus fell from the ceiling and landed next to me. I assumed that it must have been pulled straight from the ocean, because a large amount of water came splashing after it, soaking the bathrobe it was wearing. No, it wasn't water; it was blood. The bathrobe was soaked red all the way through.

Bathrobe?

"Derek?"

"Mat! What the hell is going on?" he said.

"I don't know."

"I just got out of the bath and I heard a splash from behind me. I turned around and the bathtub was full of blood. The next think I knew, I was being pulled under," he said.

Next to Derek, Oen fell from the ceiling.

"Guys?" he said.

"Thank God you're wearing pants," said Derek.

"I went to the bathroom, and when I came back the trapdoor was open."

"It was open?" I said.

"Yeah," he said. "Then I walk over and this hand reaches out and pulls me in."

I told them both how my room had turned into a coffin, and being pulled under the bed.

I looked down and saw that my white t-shirt had been soaked in blood both from my floor and from what had come with Derek.

"Where are we?" I said.

"What if we're," Derek paused. "You know, on the Other Side?"

"Then, we're in for a fun night," said Oen, as he walked toward the hallway.

"Oh, no," I said. "I know this hallway." It was the one from my recurring nightmare. I described the dream to them.

"So, either you've been getting a precognition of tonight, or this malicious entity has formed this to mimic your subconscious," said Derek.

"I have a question," said Oen to Derek. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Either Mat can see into the future or the ghost made the hallway to screw with him him," said Derek.

"Can you dumb it down a little?" I said.

"You guys are idiots," said Derek.

"Well, you're fat," said Oen.

We walked into the hallway everything got instantly colder. Unlike my dream, torches lined the walls in here.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm starting to think we've crossed over to the Other Side."

At the end of the hallway, instead of a door, it broke off into two more hallways.

"I think it's a labyrinth," whispered Derek.

"Looks more like some kind of maze to me," replied Oen.

"Which way do we go?" I asked.

"Which way do you go in your dream?" asked Derek.

"There's usually a door here in the dream."

"Oh, great," said Oen. "Our only guide through this place, and your dream isn't even accurate."

"I think I heard something about always keeping to the left in a maze," said Derek.

So, we turned left. The stone felt freezing on my bare feet, and the further we walked the colder the hallway felt. I felt really bad for Derek who was walking in a soaking wet bathrobe and shivering as we continued down the hallway.

We came to the end of this hallway only to find another fork, identical to the one we had found just minutes ago.

"Left again?" asked Derek.

"If we keep going left we'll just end up going in circles," said Oen. "We should alternate between left and right."

So, we went right. This hallway seemed different somehow. It looked the same, but there was something off about it. Like we shouldn't be there.

"Maybe, we should go back," I said.

"Mat, there's no way out of that room we were in," said Oen. "Except this maze."

"Labyrinth," said Derek.

We continued to walk. I noticed frost forming on Derek's bathrobe, and wondered how the cold (which was increasing by the second) paled in comparison to the feeling of unrest, which increased in me with every step we took.

This place is not meant for us. I thought.

The hallway had been wide enough before for the three of us to walk side by side. Now, it seemed to be getting smaller. Derek moved behind Justin and me.

I heard footsteps up ahead. It sounded like something in boots stomping down the hallway. Then, a scream. An eardrum-shattering scream that seemed to echo back to us endlessly between these walls. It didn't sound like a woman nor did it sound exactly like a man. It almost seemed human, except that wasn't quite right.

Then, the scream stopped, and the echoes stopped too, all at once, as if someone had hit the mute button.

A few minutes later, we came to another fork and went left.

Blood was splattered on the walls of this hallway. I started to say that this was a bad sign, but it was clearly written on their faces as well. The hallway continued to get narrower and narrower. I had to slip behind Justin. The hallway also seemed to be getting lower.

I heard Derek starting to scrape the sides of the hallway, but said nothing.

I stopped noticing how cold it was getting, because the urge turn back was almost unbearable now. I considered running back by myself, but that was probably just what the thing wanted me to do.

"Hey," said Oen. "Did you guys ever realize our life is sort of like that show Lost?"

"Oen, this isn't really the best ti..." I began.

"You know, we were trapped in this strange land with a monster. Then we left. Then we came back for some reason." He paused as if to look for more similarities. "There's a fat guy."

"Will you shut up?" Derek said.

As we walked, we found many more turns. Left, right, left, right, left, right.

It felt like we had been down here for hours, but it was hard to tell because I hadn't worn my watch to bed. Although, I had the strange feeling that it wouldn't work down here anyway. Another unpleasant side-effect of being on the Other Side.

At the end of what felt like the hundredth hallway we had walked down, there was a room. We walked in hoping this would be the end of our journey. Torches lined this room too, and on the floors...

Twenty or thirty rotting corpses lying motionless on the ground. I turned to walk out, but the door was no longer there.

"Guys, we're trapped in here," I said.

"Oh shit," said Oen. "We must have taken a wrong turn."

At Albuquerque. I thought.

"And these are people who walked the labyrinth right into this room. Trapped forever."

As I wondered how long it would take for someone to lose his mind trapped in a dimly lit room with rotting corpses, the torches went out.

"Shit," I said.

"Shh," I heard from one of them.

"What was that?" said Oen.

"Are they moving?" I said.

I guessed that a person would lose his mind a lot faster in a room with thirty corpses that he couldn't see.

My breathing was getting heavier. So, were Derek's and Oen's.

A sound. Faint. Maybe not even from the room, but it terrified me nonetheless.

"What are we going to do?" I whispered.

"Die here," answered a raspy, gurgling voice.

I screamed and punched in the direction that I had heard the voice, but I hit nothing.

I sprinted forward with my hands out, so I wouldn't crash into a wall.

Instead, I crashed right through the wall that turned out to be nothing more than dirt and rubble. Derek and Justin ran out after me, and we sprinted away without bothering to look back in.

We were in another hallway. This one was more brightly lit, but there were no torches. The light seemed to come from the walls themselves.

We were still running minutes later, but we were getting tired. Derek was already wheezing and slowing down. I looked back and saw nothing following us, so I slowed down. We all stopped for a minute.

"I'm so glad we got out of there," wheezed Derek.

"Did anyone else hear that voice?" I asked.

They nodded.

We kept walking.

"It feels warmer in here," said Derek. He was right. It did feel warmer. And the temperature continued to go up as we walked.

"Do you think we're getting closer to the way out?" I asked.

"Maybe," said Derek. "The Other Side is always freezing, so it only makes sense."

We kept walking. This hallway seemed to be even longer than the other hallways, and it kept getting hotter.

"I think I'm actually starting to sweat," said Oen.

"It's just because we're going from cold to warm really quickly. Your body hasn't gotten used to the temperature," Derek said.

As we were walking, though, my feet started to feel hot on the stone. And getting hotter.

In the minutes that passed, sweat began to drip down our faces.

"It's freaking' hot in here, man!" said Oen.

"How long did it take you to figure that one out?" Derek said.

Chapter 8: War, What is it Good For?

When the heat was almost unbearable, we got to a door. The door. The one from my dream. All stone, no handle.

Oen pushed on it. Nothing happened.

"Damn it!" he yelled. "What now?"

"This was in my dream," I said.

"Ok, how do you get through?" said Oen.

"Well, in the dream," I said. "I just sort of appear on the other side."

"You are actually less than unhelpful," said Oen.

"No, this means we're on the right track," I said.

"This is your idea of the right track?" said Oen.

"Well, we're close to the end anyway."

"Yeah, if you're dream is right about this," said Oen. "It's been really helpful so far."

"Guys, shut up," said Derek. "Let's just try to figure out this door. Now Mat, is there anything you do to the door in the dream?"

"No, I just look at it and I'm inside," I said.

There were strange symbols covering the door.

"What do they say?" I asked Derek.

"Mat, what makes you think I would know how to read this?"

"I don't know. I thought if they were Egyptian or something..."

"First of all," he said. "These definitely aren't Egyptian. Second, I have no idea how to read Egyptian hieroglyphics."

"Maybe if we all push it, we can get it," said Oen.

So, we all found a place, but before we had a chance to put our weight on the door, we were somewhere else. We all fell forward, Derek landing on the two of us.

I got the feeling that we had all fallen through the door, but I turned around and realized we were in the middle of a room, with no doorways that I could see.

We stood up and looked around.

A single light came from the ceiling; it looked like it was miles away. Every noise we made carried an echo in this room that never seemed to die completely.

I looked back at the center of the room and saw him, a man in a black cloak. His hood was drawn up and he didn't seem to have clearly defined edges. It was almost like a dream, the way he was all blurry even though he was standing ten feet away.

He turned around to face us.

"Why?" he said. His voice came in echoes, like he was far away.

"Why what?" said Oen. His voice sounded perfectly normal.

"Don't be stupid," the man said, now sounding angry. "You can cross over. Why?"

"What do you mean 'cross over'?" asked Oen.

"To the Other Side," said Derek.

"Centuries of men have lived parallel to us, never crossing over, always remaining on their own side. Until one year ago," he said.

"The bus," I said.

"Yes, and now because of that, you have opened the doorways. All of the doorways."

"So, more people are going to be able to get to your side?" I asked.

"No," he said. "We built the doorways. We built them only to go one way. You three, somehow, broke the rules.

"Now," he said. "Those from our side will enter your own."

"What are you talking about?" I said.

"When you found the first doorway, we assumed it was a mistake. We assumed you must have accidentally broken our rules."

"It was a mistake," Derek said.

"But, you have come back. Breaking our rules for a second time, we can only conclude that you seek war."

"No," I said. "No, we don't seek war!"

"This is just a mistake," Derek said. "We never tried to cross over; it just happened."

"You have broken our borders, denying our rules. We are forced to attack," he said. It was killing me how calm he sounded.

"But, you can't..." Oen began.

"The attack has already begun."

We stood there, shocked and speechless, while the man in black stood, motionless and emotionless, in front of us.

"And because you three pose the biggest threat," he reconsidered. "The only threat...you will be the first to die."

"Woah," I said. "That's not..." The man in black had disappeared. The room began to fill with water. Ice cold water. We looked around the room for some kind of exit. A ladder, a door, something. But, the walls were smooth, and the ceiling was miles above us.

Chapter 9: You Gotta Believe!

As the water rose past my ankles, I felt my feet begin to go numb.

"What are we going to do?" I said.

Derek looked up at us. "He said that we were the only ones who could cross over, right?"

I didn't get how this fact helped us.

"Well, if we can cross over to the Other Side, we can cross back over to Our Side."

"How are we supposed to do that," said Oen. "Click our heels together and say, 'I think I can?'"

"Your attitude isn't helping!" yelled Derek.

"Your plan isn't helping!"

"How did we get through the door?" Derek said to me.

The water was up to my knees now. Cold as ice.

"I don't know," I said. "We just all put our hands on it and..." That was all we did.

"Worth a try! Go to the wall!" Derek yelled.

We all moved toward the closest wall. The water was now at my waist. I could feel all kinds of things shrink, that I hoped would return to normal size if we got out of here.

Derek and I put our hands on the wall. Oen reached out his hand.

"There's no chance at all that this will work," said Oen. And it didn't. Our hands were on the wall and that's where they stayed.

"Come on!" yelled Derek to no one in particular. The water was now rising to my chest. My chest tightened up. I couldn't breathe.

"We're gonna die down here," Oen said.

"No!" yelled Derek. "Ok, the first time we were going to push the door, as if to get to the Other Side of it."

I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. I couldn't think. The water was at my neck and I felt the world start to go black in front of me.

"We have to believe we're going to the other side of this wall. The Other Side! Believe!"

I put my hand on the wall and believed.

I felt myself flying up into the air, then fell back down and landed on the floor.

I looked over at the hole from where I had flown. I watched as Derek and Oen, too, were thrown out of the hole in Oen's bedroom floor. I had to roll out of the way to avoid the two of them landing on me.

"It worked?" said Derek. "It worked. I can't believe it actually worked! Well, I guess I must have believed because..."

"Derek," I said, my teeth chattering.

"What?"

"Shut it."

Derek stood up and flipped the thermostat control to 90. Then, he grabbed a blanket from Oen's bed and tossed it to me. Oen was already wrapped up in his sleeping bag. Derek wrapped another blanket around himself and grabbed the phone.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm calling Herbert," he said.

"You mean Herman?" said Oen.

That night, we closed up the trapdoor in Oen's room, and pulled the carpet back over.

"Do you think they're really going to attack our world?" said Derek.

We were sitting at our kitchen table, a bowl of Lucky Charms in front of Oen.

"Well, we know time slows down on the Other Side," I said. "So, it could be months or years before we see anything."

"Why can they come over to our side freely," Derek asked. "when we're the only ones who can cross over from our side? And why can we cross over?"

"Well, I think they're the ones who set up the borders, so they can do whatever they want. But, I don't know why we can cross over though."

"These really are magically delicious," said Oen. He looked up to see us staring at him. "What?"

"Anyway," I said, turning back to Derek. "If we're the only ones who can cross over, then we're the only ones who can protect our side, when the attack happens."

"How would we even do that?" asked Derek. "How could we stop them?"

"I don't know," I said.

"Man, don't be so dramatic about it," said Oen. "They probably won't even show up."

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Well, that guy said we were gonna die down there, but we're fine."

"I think maybe we got lucky," said Derek.

"So, maybe we'll get lucky here. The Othersiders will probably try to get through and end up in some other universe."

The TV turned on by itself. It was the news, which seemed odd, since nobody in our house watched the news. The pretty blonde news lady was standing in front of a house with an elderly woman.

"...woman who says she's seen a ghost."

"It wasn't a ghost," said the elderly woman. "It was a monster. It was all red and its skin was hanging off its bones." The woman began to cry.

Chester.

"It was awful; it just kept running after me. Then I led it outside and it ran off."

The news lady seemed a little shocked at this. She took a second to respond.

"Well, I'm sure everybody will be on the lookout for the ghost that got away."

The elderly woman began to speak. "It wasn't..." The broadcast switched over to the an anchorman sitting behind his desk. He was chuckling to himself with his co-anchor, a woman in her late 40's.

"Well, that's certainly a new one," the man chuckled.

"That is something, alright," said the woman.

"What a bunch of assholes they are," said Oen.

I had to agree with him there.

"Well, they don't know what's coming. I would think the woman were crazy too if I hadn't... you know... seen all of this shit." said Derek.

"Yeah well..." said Oen. "They're still assholes."

"Agreed," I said. "So, that means it's already started. We don't have months or weeks or anything."

I looked at them both.

"They're already here."

To Be Continued...