by Andrew Jackson

Zip.

Some sounds a human should never hear.

It started so small—just a tiny hole in the air, like a busted seam. But it doubles in size each day, and with it comes that awful screeching of colossal teeth grinding along interdimensional fault lines.

I know I can’t contain it. I only boarded up the closet because soon it’ll be wide enough for those things to climb through.  

It’s easier just to lie here, pretending I can’t hear the little world growing. Hear those grinding teeth, those scuttling claws, those whispered not-words. I can almost do it. Almost.

Zip

Andrew Jackson

Andrew Jackson is a science fiction, thriller, and horror writer based in Surrey, England. He grew up on Star Trek, Alien, and videogames he was too young to play. His debut sci-fi novel is in progress.
Instagram: @authorandrewjackson