Aled's hand disappeared. As if it had been severed cleanly at the wrist. Horrified, he jerked his arm back and cradled it against his chest. Panting, he gazed down. His hand was still there, attached to his arm as usual. What the fuck was going on here?
He grabbed the nearest thing from his desk—his phone—and pushed it gingerly toward the hole. It disappeared centimetre by centimetre, as if it was being sliced by a blade. But the phone was still there. Somewhere. It reappeared, intact as ever, when he drew it out. The hole wasn't blue and shimmering but for some reason he was reminded of Stargate, an old movie he had seen as a child. Was this another Stargate? A portal to another world?
Or, given what happened today, possibly a gateway to hell, he thought, wryly.
Afterwards, he couldn't help wondering if the whisky had gone to his head. At the time, he just wanted to find out what was going on. If he poked his head through the hole, just to have a look, he'd see what was on the other side and then step straight back into his room.
Holding his hand in front of his face, as if he was brushing through cobwebs, Aled stepped forward. Once again, his hand disappeared into the inky blackness. Then his arm. Without giving himself time for second thoughts, Aled took a deep gulp of air and followed. He felt nothing and saw nothing as entered, one cautious step at a time, holding his breath. How far was this blackness going to last, he wondered, beginning to feel the first tendrils of fear flickering around his consciousness. When would it end? What if it didn't? The nightmarish thought slid into his mind.
How far had he come? He stopped and turned back to check, but to his horror, everything was black. He could no more see into his room at home than he could see what was ahead. He was surrounded by impenetrable blackness. How the hell could he be sure of finding his way back? What if he had unconsciously swung to the right or the left? A rush of panic almost brought him to his knees. His lungs ached with the need to breathe but he didn't know if he could. Was there even any air here?
He struggled to fight back against the panic, reminding himself that he was a soldier, for God's sake. He'd faced worse conditions in combat. But there was something about this unnatural blackness which had the hairs rising on the back of his neck and sweat breaking out on his forehead.
What should he do? Go on or turn back? He felt like he'd been trapped there, hesitating, for hours but, as he was still holding his breath, it could only have been a minute or two.
He let out the air from his lungs in a gasp and then took a cautious breath. Air, blessed air. He breathed in and out, waiting for any peculiar side effects but it seemed the same as usual. That decided him, he'd keep going, and this time he'd count his steps. If he hadn't come to the other side in, say, twenty steps, he'd turn round...
He came out of the tunnel, or portal, or whatever it was, with a suddenness that was shocking. One moment he was in pitch black and the next in bright sunshine. He squinted against the glare, lowering his head to allow his eyes to adjust. His right leg looked cut off at the heel, still partly inside. Instinctively, he jumped forward to get clear, then spun around to look back at where he'd come from.
There was nothing there, at least there was something, but it wasn't a black hole, it was an exceedingly solid-looking granite boulder, spotted with peppermint green lichen. He rapped it with his knuckles. Yep, it was just as solid as it looked. How the hell had he walked through it?
Aled shook his head, dazed, and blinked rapidly. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe someone had slipped something into his afternoon cup of coffee. Yeah, that was probably it. In a moment he'd wake up and find himself with his head on the keyboard and a stiff neck.
He pinched himself on the soft inside of his elbow. Wasn't that supposed to wake you up? But it didn't, he was still standing there in bright sunshine in the middle of a granite outcrop. Where the hell was he? The boulders reminded him of pictures he'd seen of Australia, and the grass beneath his feet looked like normal grass, perhaps a little drier than usual. He bit back a slightly hysterical laugh. Why was it weirder to think he'd been transported back to Australia, than to another world, or another time, at least?
He walked forward, picking his way between the boulders, trying to get a better view of his surroundings. He emerged from the outcrop to find himself on the top of a small hill. Shrubs and trees stretched away to the horizon, and the tallest mountain range Aled could ever remember seeing. Clouds hung over the peaks, shifting every so often to reveal glimpses of glistening snow. He turned around slowly, searching with his eyes, but could find no trace of human settlement—or alien, for that matter. No roads or towns, no planes in the sky. No sounds of traffic or machinery. No signs of life.
In the scrub off to his right, something flashed in the sunlight.
(Word Count - 2034 to this point)