A Gate To Nowhere

20251023

Written for Bradley Ramsey's "First Indulgence" event.

“Is that… thermal gear?” The head researcher - Dr Pollock, wasn’t it? Surveys us with a confused, sceptical air. “I thought you said you were sending…”
“While ghouls don’t suffer hypothermia, they can freeze.” Captain Jones is, ironically, better at deadpan than I am. Than most of the team is, actually. Death has a way of stealing inhibitions. Maybe that’s part of why leadership has to be living. “Now… what exactly are they trying to contain?”
Dr Pollock looks out the transport window to the lurking, dark carcass of the research station, then back at us. She takes a deep breath. “We don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? What were you studying?”
“That is… not entirely relevant. But-” she raises a hand to forestall the captain’s interjection “-I must warn you that whatever has occupied the facility is… not of the world. And no, I am not referring to the known neighbouring realms. This is… new. We have no idea what they’re capable of. All survivors did not encounter them in our escape.”
“Comforting.” Jones folds his arms and scowls. “So you can’t tell us anything?”
“Only to apply extreme caution.”
I exchange bemused glances with the rest of the squad. ‘Caution’ really isn’t our style. Pretty sure most of us have forgotten what a sense of self-preservation feels like. Normally ghoul squads get sent in once caution won’t save you.
Jones scoffs “If they wanted caution why-”
“Initially we tried sending in a covert squad to shut down the generator, and they were unable to enter the facility.” Dr Pollock says crisply. “They described ‘blinding terror’. Hallucinations. Fever-like symptoms. Heart palpitations, which in one case required urgent medical intervention. The entire squad is still receiving psychiatric treatment.”
Ohh. Alright, fair.
“What the hell kind of realm did you break into??” I’d never seen Jones rattled. “Shouldn’t you get fey to look at this? Demons, maybe-”
“It is imperative that no non-earth groups are aware of the project.” Dr Pollock’s voice is suddenly sharp. Warning.
Jones backs down with a resentful scowl.
Whereas I speak up. Lack of life, lack of fear, and all that. “In other words, you were messing around with something even the Unseelie know not to prod.”
If looks could deanimate, Dr Pollock would be standing in an empty room. Jones hastily steps back in. “That’s none of your business, lieutenant. Your orders are to infiltrate the facility and shut off the remaining power. Is that clear?”
“Crystal, captain.” I check my equipment, the rest of the squad following suit, then exit the transport into Antarctic midnight.
We’ve already memorised the maps. And it’s clear the good doctor has nothing else she can - or will - tell us. Better to get moving.
Once we’re safely out of human earshot Jen muses “Sooo… they opened a Gate?”
“Sure sounds like it. To someplace so nasty it’d get the whole planet evacuated and quarantined by demons.”
“What where they even expecting to find?”
I shrug. “Something something, maintain human’s technological advantage, blah blah. Some people just can’t believe alliances and peace will hold, so they stockpile explosives. And then one goes off.”
I gesture that chatting is over and turn my attention to the building.
Ah. I think I feel it. Nothing like what the doctor described, it’s more… akin to the itch when my skin’s regrowing, except at the back of my mind. “I think we’re inside… whatever it is.”
Nods and grunts indicate that everyone else is affected. Both guns and talons held ready.
I try the door, then when it resists I brace and rip it open. Mundane steel. No wards or blessings. They really weren’t expecting this to have to contain anything, were they? If it can’t even keep me out…
The frigid air which wafts past smells of death… and something that sets my hair on end. Something that makes my nose want to fold in on itself and hide. Something wrong.
“…Don’t eat any corpses, alright? We don’t know what’s on ‘em.”
Normally I’d have to argue that point. But nobody even grumbles.
When I peer through the doorway my light stutters and refracts on air which isn’t lined up right. This is supposed to be a wetroom, and… maybe it is? I’d have to be a cubist to make sense of how this space isn’t fitting together.
Gus mutters “I don’t think that map was up-to-date.”
Normally that’d get a round of laughs. But faced with this, we’re too on edge.
I actually have to steel myself before I wave my hand inside. It’s… jarring. Akin to being buffeted by layers of conflicting air currents, only far worse. But I withdraw unscathed. I decide “We’ll try following the planned route, and listen for electricity.”
The moment I cross the threshold I know listening won’t help. This is like cubism, like something smashed the room into little pieces and tried its best to put them back together but didn’t understand how three-dimensional space works.
I’d forgotten what nausea felt like, and can’t say I missed it.
“Shiiiit.” Jen groans. Mostly from a spot behind and to my left, yet somehow also from across the room and another spot I can’t even place.
One step forward. Another. I am making progress, though its hard to track.
Then a… thread? Needle? Limb? Slides out of the cracks between mismatched space and stabs into me. Not piercing my flesh, yet somehow occupying the same space I am. I can feel something, way at the other end. Examining me. Probing me.
I can’t sense any aggression, or malevolence, or hunger. That’d be less worrying. There’s only a callously blithe, excited curiosity. Like a baby with a new toy.
When I try my radio it sputters and crackles. I speak into it anyway. “Er, I think you’ll need a remote solution for this one-”
I wonder if a human would maintain sensation through being rearranged like me, or if their fragile existence would’ve been a mercy.

Prompt was “A top-secret research station in Antarctica goes dark after discovering an inter dimensional rift beneath the ice. A team is quickly formed and sent in to investigate. What they find defies all explanation…”