Dylan felt a weight slam into his chest as he fell onto his back. His head struck the ground with a brutal thud, an electric current surging through his entire body. The hatch door slammed shut behind him. He'd expected to be hit by a projectile… but the sensation of an embrace—almost gentle—proved otherwise.
He tried to struggle, but a sharp blow crushed his face. His eyes, barely open, fought to stay conscious. Another strike followed… then another, over and over. Pain seared him, but he felt paralyzed, powerless to react.
The grip tightened. Gasping, he forced one eye open. Blurry images sharpened slowly. His heart froze.
"Captain… ow… what are you doing ?"
Maggie didn't answer. She kept pummeling him with her fists, her face twisted with rage. Dylan, despite the pain, felt panic give way to frustration.
"Ow, you're hurting me!"
He writhed, his voice trembling with confusion.
"If you keep this up… I'll have to defend myself, Captain!"
He finally forced both eyes open despite the agony. With a desperate effort, he grabbed Maggie's wrists… and froze.
She was crying.
Her eyes were red, flooded with tears, but this wasn't sadness. It was rage.
"Why… why are you hitting me?" he asked, his voice shattered by terror.
"All of this… is your fault !" she screamed, her sobs mingling with the shout.
Dylan's eyes widened.
"My fault?" he stammered, lost in the face of this sudden accusation.
"Yes! Because of you, the whole squad was wiped out, you filthy dog !"
The words cracked like a whip. Dylan released her wrists, stunned. Maggie's fury was raw, but behind each strike, he sensed something else: an ancient fear, gnawed by guilt.
"Because of me ?" he shouted, reaching instinctively for his knife. "What did I do, damn it? I woke up in the middle of this mess!"
Maggie stiffened, her fingers still clawing at his collar.
"You should've died in their place." Her voice broke. "They're dead… because you couldn't stop drinking."
The silence turned glacial.
Dylan relived the scene: the party, the alcohol. One bottle… then two… then nothing. When the warning had come—an imminent attack on the base—he'd cowardly hidden in a maintenance hatch and passed out.
His stomach churned.
"I… I didn't know…" he mumbled.
"You drunken shit !" Maggie spat, her eyes blazing with contempt. "How'd you even make lieutenant? Sucking off higher-ups?"
Dylan looked away.
"While you were sleeping like trash with your damn bottles, we got hit. Most of the squad was caught in the blast. The rest of us… tried to run."
Her voice shook.
"And what did we find? You. Lying there, cozy. Asleep."
She let out a joyless, near-hysterical laugh.
"We took the hatch. But they tracked us. A fucking tracer missile… and when it hit, we were thrown through some kind of... dimensional rift."
Dylan frowned.
"A rift? You're saying we're…"
"Yeah, sounds crazy, right? We're not on Earth anymore."
Maggie inhaled deeply, closing her eyes briefly as if reliving it.
"That one-eyed creature… it found us. Bullets did nothing. It took everyone down… except me. I was hiding in the back."
Her voice cracked again.
"They were captured. All of them. You too."
She gritted her teeth.
"I tried everything… but one by one, your biochips went dark."
She pointed at him, each word burning.
"And you're the only one left…"
Her eyes welled with tears.
"Of all people… you should've died."
Dylan opened his mouth, but no sound came out. The weight of guilt crushed him. He thought of the bodies he'd seen—or what was left of them. He couldn't tell her. Not now.
He swallowed. This time, he wanted her to hit him. But the blow never came. Maggie had likely exhausted herself.
A deep rumble suddenly shook the hatch walls. Claws screeched against metal.
Maggie jerked upright, her tear-streaked face hardening into tactical coldness.
"It's found us," she muttered, reloading her rifle. "If you want redemption… help me survive this hellhole. Otherwise… rot here."
Dylan rubbed his jaw, blood coating his tongue. The monster's screams grew closer. He grabbed a military-grade machete, his grip whitening on the hilt. Heart racing, he peered through a porthole.
A bony, spectral-white figure unfolded with a sinister crack. Its limbs—too long to be natural—dragged across the ground as razor-sharp claws effortlessly gouged the hatch's rusted metal. Three hollow sockets, glowing with ghostly light, fixed on the porthole.
Dylan's breath caught. The creature moved slowly, savoring every second of suffocating tension. Its claws carved furrows into the metal with unsettling ease. Each screech vibrated in his ribcage, sending icy waves through his body.
"Fuck…" he breathed, stepping back.
Maggie glanced at him, then the porthole. She tightened her grip on the rifle. "Don't move. It's testing us."
Dylan swallowed. "Testing what?"
"Our fear."
The monster pressed its pallid face to the porthole. Its jaws parted slowly, revealing jagged fangs coated in a black, viscous substance dripping to the floor. Each drop hissed as it hit the metal, acid eating through everything it touched.
Dylan's stomach lurched. He gripped the machete until his knuckles whitened. His heart pounded wildly. Maggie, unnervingly, stayed calm. Too calm.
"Why isn't it attacking?" he whispered.
"Because it knows it can't stay. It'll want to finish this fast… before she arrives."
"…She?" Dylan asked. "It's scared of something?"
"Don't know. I've been here three days. Creatures everywhere. But none dare enter this forest. They avoid it like the plague." She paused, her gaze darkening. "So I lured it here. Shook it off nearby… left a trail to bring it back."
"Wait…" Dylan stared at her. "You led it here on purpose ?"
"Yes." Her voice was icy, almost alien. "I wanted to know why they fear this place. My theory? It's another predator's territory."
The creature suddenly stopped scraping. It tilted its head, as if listening. Silence fell. Thick. Oppressive.
Then, without warning, it leaped back. Its twisted limbs snapped against the ground with a bone-cracking crunch. A shrill, inhuman shriek tore through the air.
"Shit…" Maggie breathed.
Dylan's panic surged. "What's happening?"
"Get ready to fight." She racked her rifle, checking ammo. "I just saw movement… and that thing's provoking it."
Dylan's heart hammered. He nodded, speechless. He edged closer to the porthole, muscles taut, eyes locked on the shifting darkness.
Something was approaching. And it was nothing human.