EP 1

By Colin Bristow.

Charly woke to find himself alone that awful morning. A medium height chap, who had always respected others, the feeling of desertion closed in rapidly.
He climbed from his bed, a couch really, and wandered to the bedroom.
It was empty of course.
“Where the hell has she gone?”
An awful wave of emotion broke him completely, as he staggered out. His skeletal hands supporting himself as he retched into the vacant loo.
Collecting himself at last, Charly noticed the missing cat. Scratching his head slowly, he turned and noted the locked door.
“Well,” he muttered. “She obviously did not go out that way.”
 
EP 2.

Charly marched up to the door and raised the latch. He then turned the main key 360 degrees and pulled.
Nothing.
He pulled again.
Still nothing.
With a bemused look upon his face he turned and swiftly marched into the lounge. Pointing a finger at the curtains he said through gritted teeth, “You dare stay closed.”
He reached them easily enough and pulled them open. He staggered back in astonishment.
“I’ve heard of fog, but two floors up? This is ridiculous.”
Charly turned then, and decided that the quicker he found the cat the better.
“Christine?”
To his intense relief, she came bounding towards him. Kneeling as she rubbed against him, Charly said, “At least you are here. My favourite daughter eh? I knew you would not desert me. My only true friend eh?”
He stood and glared at the thick fog bank.
“I know, the damn kitchen...”

EP 3.

He marched into the cooking area and glared through the window. The fog bank remained absolutely solid as he stood there, somewhat perplexed.
“Now calm down,” he muttered to himself. “The front door has probably jammed itself.”
He gazed at the neat pile of dishes as they stood upon the rack and noted the box of wine. Removing a glass from the cupboard, he filled this and drained the glass.
“Just what I don’t need first thing on a Saturday morning.”
He put the glass down and sauntered back into the lounge where the cat was waiting patiently.
“I really don’t know love,” he said slowly. “Certainly something peculiar going on.”
Charly was about to sit upon his favourite armchair when a loud crack from the bedroom whirled him around.
“If that’s the damn ghost again she can get stuffed.”
He entered the short hall and thrust the door open. As he walked inside the empty room, his eyes scanned for movement.
“I know you are in here my dear. I’m really not deaf you know.”
As he scanned again, a swirling black cloud began to appear below the window and Charly stood his ground.
 
Ep 4.

“That won’t scare me off,” he said defiantly. “You are not welcome here.”
As the cloud grew in size, he dashed into the lounge and took down the rosary which had hung over the kitchen door for years.
Gripping it tightly, he entered the bedroom where the cloud had now assumed a human shape.
Charly thrust the crucifix out and said calmly, “Creature of evil, I banish you in the name of the Lord.”
He waited, expecting the apparition to fade. However, it remained solid as the definition grew stronger. As Charly watched, two cloven feet appeared and shortly after a hair encrusted body.
“Oh you must be joking,” he said as the face became fully visible at last.
Two beady eyes stared out from a goat’s face, and two white horns protruded from the crown.
“You can go back from whence you bloody well came,” Charly said as a handful of talons swept the crucifix from his fingers.
“It is not I who is about to leave,” the monstrosity said in a bloodcurdling voice.
The talons clamped his shoulders in a vice, and the two figures promptly vanished.
Within the lounge, the cat cried bitterly.

Ep 5.

When Charly opened his eyes, he was no longer in the warm lounge. As a matter of fact, he rapidly became horrified.
His frantic eyes noted the bonds around his hands and feet, and the mouth pad prevented him from screaming.
A thought passed through his desperate mind.
‘Where have my clothes gone?’
All around were baking hot rocks and his brow dripped with fear induced sweat. As if this was not bad enough, the bathtub looked a little incongruous in this weird setting.
The horned demon was gone, he was sure of that.
He saw the wall parting and two, very naked females strutted out. One of them carried a large wicker basket which looked rather on the heavy side.
When they reached him, this basket was upturned, and writhing, hissing vipers fell onto him.
For Charly this was his worst nightmare. The only problem was, it was far too real. As he struggled fruitlessly, the serpents writhed over his body, fangs biting at his naked flesh.
He felt the mouth pad being ripped off and one of the females forcing his mouth open. As his eyes darted left and right, a viper slithered up his neck and across his tremblinh cheek.
He moaned in horror, as this creature forced itself into his mouth and down his exposed throat. A violent choking sensation followed, as the snake tore itself through the food pipe.

Ep 6.

As rivers of blood spewed into the bath and the mass of vipers, the snakes seemed to become invigorated. Despite the wound, Charly was very much alive, very much in screaming agony.
A snake opened its mouth and tore his manhood to shreds. Another struck at fingers, while a third drilled its head inside his ear. His terrified eyes saw two snakes upon his cheeks, then saw no more as they smashed through the fragile membrane.
In the induced darkness, he felt everything. The pain and the lack of air. He felt as though he was about to explode when his sight returned once more.
The bonds were gone, along with the bathtub.
“Thank God for that,” he gasped taking in the scene.
As far as the eye could see, a golden beach stretched before him. Nearby, two nude females beckoned with upright fingers. Charly glanced down and muttered, “It’s still there.”
A little happier now, he strolled towards them as they made lewd suggestions. This was one of those occasions that every hot-blooded male dreams off.
At least for the moment.
As he reached them, a little hot beneath the flesh, the dark haired one pulled him down between them.
“Come on girls,” he said. “Time to play.”
They however remained silent, as he glanced over them with a little suspicion. Then he saw it...

Ep 7.

Along the midriff, the human appearance ended. Small white teeth slowly ground together, waiting for the obvious meal. Charly’s eyes opened wide and he scrambled back.
One of the women grabbed his foot, and he rolled onto his chest, fingers raking across the surface of the sand.
“Will someone help!” he screamed as claws slashed across the manly buttocks.
His fingers unearthed a long piece of flotsam and he pulled it free. Kicking wildly now, he broke free and scrambled to his feet.
“See how you like this.”
He swung the dark wood at the harpies heads, connecting perfectly. As the first keeled over he swung again, and in a frenzy reduced the skulls to a bloody pulp.
Charly dropped the make do weapon and dashed off across the sand in the direction of a rocky outcrop. He was frantic with worry as he reached it.
“What kind of place is this?”
Breathing heavily, he glanced ahead and saw the impossible.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Just a little further, a tall clock tower stood buried up to the face. As he approached, he recognised it at once.
“Big Ben eh? What crime did you commit?”
He stood open mouthed, fully aware of the implications.
He saw the hands had stopped at noon, and despite the incongruous setting, the plate glass was unbroken.
Charly glanced across at the calm ocean and was about to walk around the clock, when a young female voice caught his attention.
“Hey you? I’m over here.”
He turned and saw a woman standing at the mouth of a darkened cave. He smiled and ran over.
“Are you eh..?”
“Of course I’m human.”
She stood there, around five foot and dressed in a nurses uniform. Her golden locks gave her a rather attractive look. Charly suddenly felt self conscious and placed his hands strategically.
The woman laughed.
“Small sausage eh? I’m Cynthia.”
They shook hands as he introduced himself.
Behind this twenty year old stood two others. A small boy of around ten, dressed in a school uniform and a middle-aged bloke who looked like a shopkeeper.
“How did you lot get here?”
Cynthia smiled.
“Grabbed by that thing. Just like you I imagine.”
A loud squawking from outside made everyone swing round.

Ep 8.

A weird looking bird with small but useless wings was hopping across the sand toward the sea.
“Those are friendly Charly,” Cynthia said.
Charly pointed to Big Ben.
“How do you explain that being here?”
“It’s not real. You can walk right through it.”
“So what lies beyond?”
“The sand and a field to the left. We were six last week. Then we investigated the field. Now we are three.”
“What took the others?”
“Mines would you believe.”
Charlie pushed through to the rear of the cave, scanning slowly. He spotted a large root and pulled it free.
“What are you going to do with that?” the boy asked.
“Probe mainly,” Charly said. “We are getting out of here now.”
“Across that field?”
He stared hard at Cynthia.
“I don’t fancy staying here much longer. I have a cat at home you know.”
“You will never see it again,” the shopkeeper affirmed.
Charly glared and hissed, “Better to die trying mate!”

Ep 9.

They left the cave mouth together, Charly leading the way toward the standing clock. He felt rather weird walking through the image and was relieved when the beach came back into view.
“There’s that wretched field,” Cynthia pointed out.
Charly gazed toward the left, and saw the innocent looking patch of green.
“We had better tackle it then,” he said with a smile.
They reached the boundary between sand and grass, and Charly knelt down and started probing slowly.
“This patch seems clear,” he muttered.
Moving to the next patch he probed again.
“Everyone remain within my footsteps,” he cautioned.
Slowly but surely, they moved further into the minefield. Charly probed again and hit something hard.
“I think that I’ve found one,” he whispered.
He placed the root at his side and probed with his fingers. Once the surface of the weapon had been exposed, he probed beyond and took the next step.
The movement was slow and relentless but eventually they reached the middle sector. “So far so good,” Cynthia whispered.
Charly gazed ahead as the grass appeared to flicker.
He probed once more and saw it promptly vanish.
“You don’t see that every day,” he said pulling it back.
“What the hell is it?” Cynthia asked.
“It’s certainly not natural,” Charly replied.
“We can’t go back,” the shopkeeper said urgently.
“I don’t intend to,” Charly told him. “Hang on a second.”
He held his breath and poked his head forward. He was amazed to see a river bank just a few paces distant, and beyond that a blackened forest.
He pushed on until his feet were through before standing up. As he looked, the others soon appeared.
“Weird kind of place,” the kid said.
“At least we are free from that damn beach,” the keeper said.
Charly glanced in both directions, trying to decide which way to turn when the kid spotted something very peculiar.
“There is a bloke fishing over there.”
Everyone stared and sure enough, a tallish gent with a goaty beard and tweeds sat to their right with a makeshift rod.
“Hey you!” Charly called dashing toward him.
The fisherman turned and smiled at the new arrivals.
“Where did you lot spring from?”
“You don’t know about the beach?” Cynthia asked.
“Never been there and don’t want to either thanks.”
“Caught anything?” the kid asked.
“Not today.”
Charly introduced himself.
“Mac Southby.”
“That flyer who vanished in twenty-three?” the kid asked.
“So you have heard of me eh?”
“How is that possible?” Cynthia asked.
Charly glanced at her.
“Our abductor is not who he claims to be.”
“I was grabbed from my bunk,” Mac said.
“You have lived here since then?” the keeper asked.
“More or less. I built a lean to not far from here.”
“What’s beyond the burnt forest?” Charly asked.
“No idea. When I arrived it was safer to stay put.”
Mac pulled the carved pole from the bank and wrapped the line around it.
“If you lot follow me, we cab have some moonshine.”
“What’s that?” the kid asked.
“You are far too young mate,” Charly said.
Mac led them along the bank and toward a large wall of bushes.

Ep 10.

“It’s just beyond there.”
Standing on the edge of scrubland stood a low stone construction with a makeshift cooker on the outside.
“I found the stones locally,” Mac pointed out.
“You did well to build that,” Charly said.
“Thanks.
“Nice scrubland,” the keeper said walking toward it.
“I would stay here,” Mac advised.
“Something dangerous over there?” the keeper asked.
“After a hundred yards the ground falls away into a bottomless pit.”
“Sounds rather fun,” Cynthia commented.
“How far does that river go?” Charly asked.
“I have followed it both ways,” Mac replied. “It circles the forest and returns here.”
“Which means the end of the road,” Charly muttered.
“You better explain that,” the keeper said.
“Don’t you see? That damn forest is at the centre of all this. If we really want to get home, we have to reach it.”
Mac shook his head.
“I seem to be better off here. You know that I’ve not aged a day here?”
“He certainly can’t go back,” Cynthia muttered.
Charly turned and gazed toward the river and his projected destination.
“You are probably right. I say that we stay the night and go for it.”
“Sounds good enough to me,” the keeper said.
Mac glanced up at the darkening sky.
“The light is starting to go. My construct should accommodate everyone with a squeeze.”
He led the way inside, crawling slowly forward until he hit the rear wall.
“Why so low?” the kid asked after everyone was safely inside.
“You will find out soon.”
Charly gave Cynthia a warning glance as the night suddenly arrived.
Loud crumping sounds echoed from the night and Mac whispered, “Here it comes.”
“What’s coming?” the kid asked nervously.”
“You two should move further inside,” Mac said.
“That’s good enough for me,” the keeper said.
He started to crawl forward when he suddenly yelled.

Ep 11.

“Something’s got my foot!”
He winced in pain as he struggled frantically.
Mac reached out to grab him but it was too late for that. Before their horrified eyes, the keeper was dragged outside, screaming hysterically.
The kid panicked as he was grabbed by the unseen force.
“We have to help!” Cynthia said.
Mac grabbed her arm.
“Not if you want to live dear.”
The kid vanished into the dark as Charly lay there in mute silence.
“I have never seen it,” Mac admitted. “Only that crumping noise.”
“Does it come from the wood?” Charly asked.
Mac shook his head.
“I believe that it wanders the scrubland. Obviously a carnivore. That is why I built this.”
Beyond the safety of the shelter, the victims had been shredded neatly. Bits of clothes and sinews were scattered around as the creature moved off until the coming of night once more.
Charly woke with a start.
“The morning has come,” Cynthia whispered.
Charly noted the absence of Mac.
“Where is he?”
“Would you believe fishing.”
They crawled outside, stretching in the cool air. There was no sign of the victims, and no prints to indicate the killer.
“Fancy tackling the river now?”
“After last night yes,” Cynthia replied.
They found Mac sitting upon the bank with his legs dangling over the edge. At his left side, a couple of strange looking fish flapped furiously.
“Morning you two,” he said cheerily.
Charly was shocked.
“We lost two and you greet us like that?”
“Can’t grieve for strangers mate.”
“How deep is that river?” Cynthia asked.
“Over twenty foot. My pole can’t reach the bottom.”
Charly glanced at her.
“It really is now or never.”
She nodded grimly.
They said goodbye to the lost airman and followed the river until it bent west. Gazing down Charly said, “It seems to be rather placid. Not much of a current.”
Cynthia stripped to her underwear and hobbled down to the edge. Placing her foot gingerly into the water she said, “It’s warm enough.”
Charly joined her, taking hold of her hand.
“Here’s for nothing.”
They hobbled into the river until it reached their waist. Charlie struck out first and Cynthia quickly followed.
The distance to the far bank was roughly a hundred feet, and it seemed to take no time at all before they clambered out again. Shaking themselves down, they gazed toward the blackened trees.
“Obviously a fire caused this,” Cynthia suggested.
“Certainly looks like it. Come on, home is this way.”
Charly led the way into the dead trees, the soot smothered ground reducing the sound to a whisper.
The blackened trunks closed in around them, and the silence was deafening.
“Seems safe enough,” Cynthia said.
“We don’t know that for sure. I certainly don’t want to be here after sunset.”
Charlie spotted a thick fallen branch as Cynthia stumbled.
“Damn.”
“Just be ruddy careful.”
Reaching the trunk, Charlie wiped the soot off and sniffed.
“Carbonised. No sign of an exit.”
“Perhaps there isn’t one. For all we know it’s one way.”
“If you can get in, then you can get out,”Charly said shaking his head.
They walked around the trunk and saw four unharmed trees standing in a small circle.
“Now that is weird,” Cynthia said.
Charly stopped.
“I think we have found the exit my dear. Just let me go first.”
“Don’t you dare mate! I’m not being left behind. We go together or not at all.”
Charly smiled and took her hand.
“The first step is a killer.”
They walked towards the green and leafy trees until they stood at the very centre.
“Nothing seems to be happening.”
“Perhaps it takes time,” Charly suggested.
Moments passed.
“Let’s try something,” he suggested.
He balled his fist and tapped the bark. When nothing happened, he stepped from the circle and into open space.
“Arghh!”

Ep 12.

As he tumbled, he saw the woman right behind him as his gaze shifted towards the approaching ground.
As seconds ticked away, the bright metallic surface hurtled up until he suddenly blacked out.
“Are you okay?” he heard the woman ask as he opened his eyelids slowly.
“I think so. Where are we now?”
“A metallic nightmare.”
He sat up and scanned their surroundings. The floors and walls were obviously metal in appearance, and overhead, the shaft rose skyward.
“We can’t get back,” she informed him.
Charly stood and saw the corridor stretching ahead.
“On we go then.”
He led the way slowly along it, keeping his eyes wide just in case something appeared. The floor seemed to be descending and a door appeared at the far end.
“Hopefully we are here,” he muttered.
“Hold it a second,” she said.
“We have to go through that door,” he reminded her.
“I don’t doubt it. The problem is what’s on the other side?”
Charly winked.
“If you allow me to open it we will both find out.”
“Not on your life. We seem to be missing something.”
“The obvious you mean?”
“Exactly,” she said. “We are kidnapped then dumped God knows where. We meet a long lost flier before falling down a mineshaft that was well hidden. Then there is Big Ben, half buried upon the beach.”
“What’s your point?”
“Illusions Charly. I am starting to wonder how much of this is real.”
He thought for a moment. Stepping away from the door, he pointed to his chin.
“Punch me.”
She giggled.
“I can’t do that.”
“You need proof of reality, so do it quickly.”
She shrugged her shoulders and slapped him instead. He crashed against the door, rubbing his jaw.
“Did that hurt?”
“You bet it did, Now we open the door...Yes?”
She nodded, wondering what lay beyond it in this crazy environment.
He opened the door and peeked inside. He was astonished to see green pipes running across the walls and three glass tubes standing at the centre. The tubes were filled with a light green fluid and contained human specimens.
Walking inside gingerly, they gazed upon the familiar figures sleeping within.
“It’s us,” Cynthia muttered.
They approached slowly, noting Mac sleeping within the third tube.
“I wonder who is real,” she asked. “Them or us?”
Charly scratched his head.
“At least we know now.”
A deep voice forced them to spin around.
“You!” Charly shouted at the horned demon.
“No violence please,” it replied.
“You better explain right now,” Cynthia suggested calmly.
“I am a simple scientist conducting stress tests.”
“We are not on Earth then?” Charly asked.
The demon shook it’s head.
“This is Dorian.”
“What about those we lost?” Cynthia asked. “That kid and the keeper for starters.”
“No one died,” the scientist replied. “They were created from the cerebral cortex after gentle stimulation.”
“Mac is real enough!” Charly shouted.
“He has accepted the situation, unlike you Charly.”
“What do you mean by that?” Cynthia asked.
“By coming here, the test has been ruined. You both know the truth.”
“So you are sending us home?”
The scientist nodded.
“A simple addition of a chemical will create the necessary reaction. You will be transferred to your own world.”
They watched as the scientist wandered toward the tubes and tapped them thrice.
“That should do it.”
“I’ll tell people about this damn place,” Charly hissed.
The scientist turned with a sad look upon his face.
“Who will believe you?”
Charlie suddenly found himself standing inside the empty bedroom, staring toward the window. He slapped himself twice before dashing toward the lounge.
As he entered, the loving cat meowed loudly.
Charly knelt upon the floor and stroked his only true friend.
“You would not believe what happened to me today.”
He saw the laptop and a sudden thought flashed through his fertile mind.
“No one will believe me eh? I’ll flash it across Twitter!”
He sat and activated his device, and told his story to his followers, and to the world...Finis..