One Dimension Over: Zombies, Werewolves, and the Supernatural

by Austyn Shull

  The scruffy man opens the door and closes it. Brance sits down across from Strickton.

  “So what are we going to do now?” Brance asks.

  “I don’t know,” Strickton replies. “Didn’t you tell the mortician you’d be right there?”

  “Oh!” Brance anxiously replies. “Right. I did.”

  “Let’s go there then,” Strickton continues. “Maybe seeing the victim will help?”

  The sun is going down as they enter the mortuary. A creepy tall man in a white blood splattered plastic smock is exhuming the body of the victim found earlier that day. The mortician looks up at Strickton and Brance.

  “Wow. Took you long enough,” the mortician jokes.

  “Sorry Ernie,” Brance smiles as she explains their tardiness. “We were stuck interrogating a possible suspect, well… know it all man.”

  “I see,” Ernie replies then excitedly changes the subject. “Well hurry over here. You have to see these bites.”

  “Why? What’s so special?” Brance questions.

  “They’re goblin bites,” Ernie continues to explain. “Just look at the slanted jagged teeth marks and razor sharp cuts at the corner of each tooth mark.”

  “Are you telling me this couldn’t have been staged?” Strickton asks.

  “Well, if there wasn’t this yellow goo, slash saliva, I would say that this was orchestrated by using a dead goblin. However, this does have the goo, and the goo can only be produced while the goblin is alive”

  “So you think this was an attack by the Ab-norms?” Strickton questions Ernie.

  “Looks like it, but if I were you I’d put Homeless Man Found Dead In Alley, Unknown Cause Of Death, in the paper. Hopefully that will make the killers not kill again, because they aren’t getting credit.”

  “Actually we aren’t putting these deaths in the paper,” Strickton continues. ”We only take a picture of the face and put them on fliers that read ‘Have you seen me?’ And to call the police.”

  ”Ah,” Ernie pokes at the bite marks. “Well that works even better”

  “So, I’m taking it he didn’t’ have an I.D.?” Brance asks.

  “Yup. No I.D,” Ernie continues. “No wallet. No socks either. That’s how I deduced he was homeless.”

  “Good work,” Stockton states. “Let us know if you have any developments.”

  “Will do,” Ernie proudly states.

  The two officers walk out of the morgue and Ernie goes back to exhuming the body.

  Several streets away, a homeless man is sleeping in his cardboard house in an alley. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a shadow quickly move by. He turns his head and sees another shadow fly by. Scared, the homeless man backs into his cardboard house. A small, dog-sized, forest green, lizard-looking creature jumps on the man and bites down on his ankle. Then a similar creature jumps on the man and bites down on the other ankle.

  Three dark red lizard-like creatures scurry in front of the homeless man and crawl up his pants. The man is about to scream, when with a gust of wind blows loud, and a hand is placed over his mouth, and then a vampire bites down on his neck.

  It is morning now. Caroline walks out of a door and tosses her trash bags and watches as it lands on a man. She smiles and giggles as she apologizes. “Oops. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  She lifts the bags and sees the man is dead, and has 2 holes on his neck.

  “CALL THE POLICE!” Caroline shouts.

  Within minutes the police arrive and tell her what they know.

  “Mam, aren’t you one of the ladies at yesterday’s crime scene?” Strickton asks.

  “Yes,” Caroline confirms. “Yesterday I was taking my daughter home from school when we heard July scream, and today I was throwing out the trash and saw him.”

  She points to the homeless man that Brance is examining.

  “Strickton!” Brance yells. “Look at this little guy. It’s like a red gecko with horns and scales.”

  “Where’d you find that?” Strickton asks.

  “It was squished behind his back,” Brance explains.

  The ambulance pulls up, and the paramedics rush to the side of the homeless man. A gust of wind blows as they lift him, and the homeless man’s shirt flies up. The paramedics lower him stomach down on the stretcher. Strickton sees the shirt fly up again from a distance.

  “Stop!” Strickton shouts to the paramedics. ”Look at his back!”

  “Yeah we know. They’re stab wounds,” the paramedic replies.

  “No. Look from over here!” Strickton orders.

  Brance walks over to Strickton, who is standing about twenty feet from the ambulance. Brance looks at the man’s back.

  “Holy Shit!” Brance’s jaw drops, “That’s an ‘E’!”

  “Yup,”Strickton agrees.

  “Do you think the others have letters on their backs too?” Brance asks.

  “It’s possible,” Strickton replies.

  Brance pulls out his cellphone and calls Ernie at the morgue. His phone rings three times, and then Ernie picks up.

  “Ernie. This is Brance. We found something amazing on the latest victim. A letter. The letter ‘E’,” Brance waits for a response. “What?”

  Brance listens intensively, “great. What are they? ‘D’… ’O’ both on the same victim? Okay. ‘U’…’R’ and ‘N’ and then our ‘E’. Do your knee? What could that mean?”

  “Is that the order they were found?” Strickton enters into the conversation.

  “Ernie, is that the order that the victims were found?” Brance asks. “Can you give me the order? Okay. ‘U’’R’’D’’O’’N’ and ‘E’. You’re done? Thanks Ernie. We will get back to you. Keep us updated on what you find.”

  Brance closes his phone and slips it back in his pocket.

  “What do you think the killer is trying to tell us by ‘UR DONE’, Brance?” Strickton asks his partner.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s an acronym for some sort of organization?” Brance reasons.

  “Or maybe it’s a warning,” Strickton suggests.

  “If it was a warning, wouldn’t it be more like UR DONE if you do something?” Brance questions.

  “Maybe there’s more victims,” Strickton points out.

  “Great, so you’re hoping there is more victims?” Brance laughs.

  “Ok. But if this is the last victim, why even make a message, Brance?” Strickton questions.

  “I don’t know, but ‘UR DONE’, to me means the case is over, and I can finally have my special day for my wife,” Brance continues. “It’s our anniversary today.”

  “Alright,” Strickton replies as he watches the paramedic roll the body into the ambulance.. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Hours later the sun does down. A scream of pain is echoed and repeated throughout the town. Werewolves and hell hounds run the streets, drenched in blood. Vampires are flying from one window to another, feeding on the people. Gremlins and goblins scurry across the sidewalk, attacking people in cars.

  Morning comes. The sun rises. Blood is everywhere. Officer Strickton is dead in his police car with two holes in his neck. Officer Brance is dead in his bed, severely slashed all over. Caroline and little Suezy both lay dead, covered in gashes and bites, on their living room floor next to a board game with the TV on. The local news station is showing last night’s weather. Blood is dripping down the camera lens and down the weather map.

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  “If stereotypes don’t go away, the types will return.”

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  “The Old Dresser”

  A good friend of Thomas invited him to stay at a supposed haunted house for the weekend for a little party. Thomas knew there was no such thing as haunted houses or ghosts, so he accepted the invite. Thomas thought it would be good to arrive early so he wouldn’t fall victim to a prank played by his friends.

  Tom arrived at the house at two p.m.,
leaving him well over two hours to wait for the rest of the party. As Tom walked up to the door, he realized the doors could be locked. He stood still for a second then continued. He reached the door, turned the knob, and it opened.

  Tom opened the door and went in. He searched the wall for a light switch, found one, and powered on the lights. Tom immediately located an old wooden rocker. He walked to the rocker and sat down. So he wouldn’t be bored for the two hours he had to wait, Tom put on a pair of headphones.

  At the precise moment when Tom pressed play on his portable cd player, he heard a voice say “the dresser”, then the music played. Tom quickly tore off his headphones and sat quietly trying to make sense of what he had just heard. Was it merely the exaggerated assembled sound made by putting on the headphones? His own fear getting the best of him in this situation? Or… was it a ghost? He shrugged the idea.

  “Ghosts don’t exist,” Tom whispered beneath his breath, then Tom’s curiosity hit. “If that was a ghost, what did it mean by the Dresser? Should I go searching for a dresser? That would occupy me for the rest of the wait.”

  Tom sat up from the old rocker and began down a musty, dusty hallway, void of doors. A rat scurried across the floor. Tom jumped, realized it was merely a rat, and continued down the hall. At the end of the hallway, a door stood unopened. Tom opened the door. The door opened to a pitch-black room. He searched among the walls for a light switch, and in his search, bumped into something.

  “Is this the Dresser?” Tom thought to himself.

  He then felt around the structure he had just bumped into, trying to find a drawer to prove that it was in fact a dresser. Tom felt the front and immediately felt a drawer. He opened the drawer.

  In order to adjust his eyes enough to see inside the drawer, Tom stared down at where he thought his hands might be. It was pitch black. He could see nothing. He stared and stared, undistracted, at the hopefully empty drawer. Then suddenly, out of nothingness, a little yellow creature crawled out into the drawer and stared up at Tom with puppy dog eyes. Tom felt like running, but fought the instinct and reached his hand out so the little creature could climb on to his hand.

  Within seconds, Tom blacked out. He awoke to find himself standing inside the dresser drawer. He could tell it was the dresser because he could see the keyhole. He looked out of the keyhole and couldn’t believe his eyes, he was seeing himself talking to his friends and having fun at the party.

  Scared and confused, Tom yelled to his friends. His friends didn’t react to the yelling. Tom looked down at himself and saw he now was that yellow creature. He screamed again.

  Tom’s friends heard a slight wind whisper and looked in the direction of the dresser, but they saw no dresser.

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  “What do you see when you look at nothing?”

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  “Organism”

  Tom’s eyes widened as he peered into the package his grandmother had brought to him from her trip across the Ocean. What his eyes bestowed was amazing. His grandmother had given him a scarab beetle frozen in amber.

  Ever since the age of thirteen, he had been fascinated by Egypt and mummies. Now he had the bug that served so many purposes to the Egyptians, one being the symbol of regeneration.

  Later that night, Tom placed the statue on his dresser, and during the night, the wind blew over the statue. And out of a tiny hole in the bottom of the amber, a clear worm like bug, similar to the bugs found at the bottom of the ocean, crawled out. It glistened from moonlight as it made its way to Tom’s bed. It seemed to be walking on a web of sorts. It reached Tom’s bed and slowly lowered itself to Tom.

  Once it touched Tom, it began to burrow in a drilling fashion, into Tom’s neck.

  The next morning, his mother found him dead in his bed.

  Tom’s family spent weeks grieving hiss death. And just as they began to accept his untimely demise, Tom appeared, covered in dirt, standing at the front door. He explained to his family that he probably had the disease people had in the early centuries; where you appear dead, but are really not.

  Everyone was shocked and partially frightened, but understood the possibility. It happened back then. Surely it happens now.

  That night as Tom was sleeping, ten to twenty bugs crawled out of the amber and made their way out the window on their webs.

  The following morning, Tom’s mom received a call from the police who informed her that her son’s grave had been robbed. She explained the awesome miracle that occurred the night before, and the police man suggested she inform her church and ask for her money back from the funeral service.

  Meanwhile, just outside the front of the house, a family of three were out taking a stroll. Several of the bugs crawled on to their shoes, one bug per shoe, and then the bugs drilled into their ankles. The family stopped briefly to adjust to the discomfort, and then continued down the street.

  Exactly five blocks away all three dropped dead. The funeral was held the next day.

  Later that same night, they also arose from their final resting place. These three came back different than Tom. They weren’t like they once were. They came back as killers. Within that night alone, nine murders occurred. The following week over fifty pet and human murders occurred.

  In addition, four unexplained deaths occurred that week, which were extraordinarily brought back to life. After one month, over two hundred murders took place. In addition to all the murders occurring, Tom began to feel sick and have extreme pain in his neck. He slowly became pale and soon didn’t feel up to leaving his bedroom.

  Two days after he first began feeling sick, Tom went to sleep. And as he slept, his neck slowly split open, giving birth to a full grown Scarab beetle.

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  “Are the ancient problems really dealt with, or are they just hidden? Like a mosquito in amber from the dinosaur era.”

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  “Carriers”

  I was always told a black bird is often associated with danger or horror to come. But I had no idea what they did beyond the warning.

  Recently I found out they are what some call ‘Carriers’; black birds, crows, ravens, you name it. They all are carriers. They carry the werewolf within them. I know. I know. Seems ridiculous that a black bird can make werewolves. However, if you think about it, wolves transmitting the werewolf disease is much more ridiculous. A creature can’t pass on all its genes through mauling, if any, in reality the resulting creature would be something completely different from the attacking creature, and not even resemble that creature.

  A Carrier, however, has the disease with in it, and can pass it on much like any other disease. I wouldn't believe the flak I’m feeding you either, if it weren't for last week.

  Last week, I was at a family picnic. After we ate we decided to feed the birds. It happened casually, but all the same, it happened. One by one we would get pecked at by the black birds. After a while we became frustrated and left the birds.

  It was a full moon that night, we all stayed late at the picnic, and all of us became ill. We attempted to drive home, but once in the car, most of us would tense up and not be able to move our arms. After maybe thirteen seconds, it happened.

  My brother Joey quickly grew a hump which tore the back of his shirt. His eyes squeezed and became black. His hand stretched and finger tips pulled back as claws pushed out. His teeth elongated and he sprouted hair all over. His body also went through a metamorphosis, but by then I had already changed as well.

  My family and I, all werewolves, busted out of the cars and sprinted through the park. Oor at least that’s my guess, since in the morning we found ourselves sleeping in the forest and later found our cars with windows busted out. Like any tragic unbelievable event we thought we dreamt it, but when we began comparing "dreams" we realized the devastating truth, we all transformed into werewolves that n
ight.

  When we returned to our homes, I immediately got a call from my mother. She said the news reported finding a mutilated body in the park, which brings me to why I am writing this note. We were a good natured and loving family, we never meant to hurt a fly, the news of the attack destroyed all of us from the inside.

  We couldn’t bear the thought that we may have ended this person’s life. However, we were quite sure we did. We all recall having the sick taste of blood in our mouths when we awoke, and some of us have even seen flashes of our teeth tearing at flesh, ripping off limps, and tossing the body as if he or she was a piece of meat. We know we were the murderers.