Alex stood at the bottom of the narrow staircase leading into the basement, heart pounding in his chest.
The single hanging lightbulb overhead flickered weakly, casting elongated shadows across concrete walls. He tightened his grip on the flashlight in his hand.
He lived alone in this old house—his parents long gone—and he was used to the stillness of the place. But tonight, something felt different. A cold draft curled around his ankles and carried with it a sound that didn't belong: a faint humming, like distant whispers echoing from behind the basement wall.
He swallowed hard, summoning courage with a shaky breath. It's just your imagination, he thought, yet his feet moved forward. Each step he took stirred tiny clouds of dust from the floor.
The hum grew louder as he approached the far end of the basement, where shelves of stored boxes stood undisturbed since his childhood. Alex hesitated, a dry flicker of humor crossing his mind despite his fear. "Great, either I've got haunted pipes or I've officially lost it," he muttered under his breath.
He carefully pushed aside a heavy box filled with old photo albums. Behind it was the brick wall, or at least what was supposed to be a solid wall.
Now, however, an irregular fissure marred the surface, black as midnight and shimmering faintly at the edges. Alex's mouth went dry.
The crack was pulsing with a subtle light from within, a sickly purple glow that painted his face in eerie hues. That low humming sound was definitely coming from this fissure, now unmistakably a portal of some kind.
Alex raised a hand slowly and held it just inches from the surface. The air there felt colder and strangely alive with energy, tiny static shocks dancing on his fingertips.
Part of him wanted to run upstairs, call someone—anyone—for help. But who would he call? He had no family, and explaining "there's a glowing magic crack in my basement" over the phone would probably get him committed.
A mix of fear and curiosity tied him in place. All his life, Alex had felt like an outsider looking in—no close family, few friends, drifting through college classes without purpose. Now here, literally in the foundations of his life, something impossible had appeared. Was it an escape? A trap? A chance at something… more? He couldn't know, not without exploring further.
The humming seemed to intensify as if beckoning him. Alex realized he was holding his breath. With a quick exhale, he made up his mind. He grabbed a wrench lying on a nearby tool bench—some semblance of protection in hand—then shone the flashlight directly into the crack.
Beyond the fractured bricks there was no cavity, no pipes or wires, only swirling darkness.
He gently prodded the edge of the crack with the wrench. The metal sank in slightly, meeting little resistance, and the portal rippled like water around it. Alex yanked the tool back, startled. When nothing visibly dangerous happened—no monsters leaping out, no explosion—he steeled himself. This is crazy, he thought, but if this is real…
Alex pressed his palm flat against the shimmering dark surface. Immediately, a jolt of cold shot up his arm, as if plunging into icy water.
He gasped but kept his hand there. The surface felt both solid and yielding at once, a tingling force wrapping around his fingers.
Taking one last look over his shoulder at the familiar basement the workbench, the old furnace, the faint outline of the stairs leading back to the normal world he inhaled deeply and stepped forward.
For an instant, the world was a swirl of darkness and cold. His flashlight flickered and died as a ringing filled his ears.
Alex stumbled, vertigo flipping his stomach as though he were falling without end. He tried to scream, but the sound was lost in the void.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the sensation ceased. Alex lurched out of the darkness and found solid ground. His knees buckled and he collapsed onto a hard, uneven surface.
The wrench clattered beside him. Panting, he blinked rapidly, trying to steady his vision. The flashlight was dead, but faint light came from somewhere above.
He was no longer in his basement. Overhead stretched a vaulted stone ceiling, cracked and draped with cobwebs. A cool breeze carrying the scent of damp earth brushed past him. Alex's heart thundered as he slowly turned, still on his hands and knees, taking in his surroundings.
He appeared to be in some ancient chamber, its stone walls engraved with unreadable runes. The portal behind him was visible only for a moment longer a jagged vertical pool of darkness set in mid-air—then with a soft hiss, it collapsed in on itself and vanished.
Alex lunged forward, reaching out to where the portal had been, but his fingers grasped only empty air. It was gone his way home was gone.
A tremor of panic built inside him as the truth set in: he was stranded, alone in a darkness older than anything he'd ever known. And now there was no way back.