"You're seventy cents short."
The cashier sighed audibly, staring blankly at the young man before him.
Alden recounted the money, this time spreading it on the counter like he was dealing cards. Confusion lingered in his grey eyes as he finished his second calculation.
Five dollars and thirty cents. The instant ramen, cheap bread, and discounted eggs sitting in his basket cost six.
'I could've sworn I had a dollar more.'
"Do you have the rest?" the cashier asked, barely hiding his impatience.
"I don't think so."
The man behind him shifted his weight as a clear reminder. Alden could feel the judgmental stare without having to turn around. Probably someone with a real job and a family waiting for him.
Alden picked up half the eggs and placed them back on the counter. "I'll leave these three then."
The cashier quietly rang him up.
"You have your name tag on your left," Alden pointed out.
The cashier let out a sigh. "I didn't notice. Thank you."
As Alden turned to leave with his pitiful bag of groceries, the cashier called him back while attending to the next customer.
"Boy, do you have a trial manual?"
Alden glanced briefly then shook his head. The trial manual was a book spreading quickly throughout the country over the past month. The government urged everyone to get one. Alden had no plans to waste money on it despite the government making them as cheap as possible.
Seeing the boy about to walk away, the cashier apologized to the line before rushing over and pressing a book into Alden's hands.
The cashier frowned. "You're either ignorant or stupid. Don't take your life for granted. You could be next."
Alden stared at him. While he didn't appreciate the man getting involved in his business, he was doing it out of kindness, and they were now acquaintances. So he just thanked the man with a nod before stepping out of the store.
The walk back to his place took twenty minutes. Long enough for the sky to darken as the sun retreated. Street lights flickered on one by one. Some remained dark due to damage, so the lighting resembled a zebra crossing stretching down the block.
This was because his neighborhood occupied the eastern edge of the city where buildings shrank and streets got dirtier. In simple terms, this was the slums.
Why would someone stay in a place like this? Simple: life here was significantly cheaper. So much so that someone like him could cope without resorting to crime, as he'd done sometime in the past.
Life in the main city was just too expensive. He'd lived there when he was younger, but certain situations had led him to where he was today.
Of course, it had its downsides. For one, it could get dangerous here. Someone without proper orientation could fall victim to many unfortunate things.
He finally reached his house, or at least that's what the landlord called it. Really, it was just a box with a kitchen, a bathroom, and a single room that served as bedroom, living room, and everything else. One of the windows had a crack he'd covered with duct tape three months ago.
Still, it was home.
Alden unlocked the door and stepped inside. The air smelled faintly of mildew and his neighbor's cigarette smoke seeping through the walls.
Alden's jaw tightened. He simply walked to open the opposite window. He needed to come up with a permanent solution to this, but for now...
He dropped the grocery bag on a little table, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed onto the mattress in the corner.
-Thud-
The grocery bag fell to the ground, spilling some contents. Thankfully, none of the remaining eggs were part of it.
He let out a relieved sigh then stared at the ceiling. There was a water stain shaped vaguely like a hand reaching toward the light fixture beside it. The first time he'd seen it, he'd thought it looked kind of cool. And since he had no paintings or pictures decorating the room, he'd let it stay.
Alden closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep, but it was futile. He needed something to occupy his mind.
He reached for the spilled contents, picking up only the book the cashier had given him. Its cover was built from hard, sturdy material—designed to resist as much damage as possible.
"Hmm... how much can you take?" A grin formed on Alden's face. He went on to carry out some experiments. First, he poured some water on it. The drops slid off without leaving a trace. Then, he placed the flame of a lighter below it.
After two minutes, he pulled the flame away and observed the book. It was nearly unscathed. The changes were barely visible.
"Interesting."
Satisfied, he reached under his mattress and pulled out one of his sketchbooks. The corners were bent, with a cover soft from years of handling. He flipped through a few pages, past rough sketches of street corners, a sleeping cat he'd seen last week, a human hand. His gaze then caught another sketch—a little girl between two adults, all of their hands linked. He lingered longer before snapping the book shut.
'Would be nice if I could have something like this here,' he thought, comparing both books.
He set his sketchbook aside with just the trial manual in his hand as he fell back onto the bed and stared at its cover.
It had the text 'Trials from Beyond' written in bold letters. Why did the government insist everyone should own and read this book? Well, it all started some decades ago.
People around the world shared experiences of being approached by a figure in a dream—an entity that invited them to come to another world. At first, it was dismissed as some sort of Mandela effect or mass delusion. But then, reports of missing people started flooding in.
Apparently, they just disappeared.
It took time before it was confirmed that those who were visited by this strange entity and accepted the invitation were taken to a new, strange world. When visited, you either answered yes or no. If yes, you left. If no, you stayed. If you didn't give an answer, you'd be revisited on a different date. The rate at which this happened was roughly one out of every hundred people.
Alden found the reaction of humans during the early stages of this phenomenon stupid and delusional. A large percentage of the world had been eager to go to this new world—now called the Beyond.
"Why would someone want to go to a world they know nothing about?" He shook his head, unable to comprehend their reasoning. Did they not find this world enjoyable enough? Or did they just hate it?
Alden believed that people who'd lived average or above-average lives had no excuse to think this way.
History proved him right when the first humans returned from the Beyond several months after the initial disappearances. They revealed that this new world was in no way a fun and exciting place. Apparently, it was filled with unimaginable horrors and the rate of survival was very low.
Most people lost all interest in visiting the Beyond, but not his family. His parents had left for the Beyond eight years ago. His older sister followed shortly after them as if she'd been waiting for permission.
He could clearly remember how much he'd cried and begged to receive an invite. Years passed, and he never got one. With time, he came to a realization: Why was he chasing after people who'd abandoned him?
With time, he lost all intention of seeing them or going to that place. They'd never returned all these years, so they could easily be dead by now.
That raised another question: If all this had started decades ago, why was this book in mass circulation only recently? The reason stemmed from a recent occurrence. The number of new people leaving for the Beyond had decreased over time, but a month ago, that number skyrocketed.
The people who disappeared hadn't spoken of a visitation. This led to the theory that this could be forced travel. People in the Beyond couldn't just leave whenever they chose, so there was no way to confirm it.
With this possibility looming, this guidebook was created and circulated so that everyone could be prepared for anything.
"How thoughtful," Alden sneered. He felt they were overreacting. Humans could be unpredictable. Maybe the large number of disappearances were just people who'd found a new calling or something.
He'd had no plans of buying the book with his money. Why would he spend resources on surviving in another world when he could barely survive in this one? He doubted that he would even be invited, but if so, he would just turn the offer down, however long it takes.
But since he had one now, it wouldn't hurt to read it.
Alden spent the next few hours flipping through the pages.
'They put a lot of effort into this,' he thought. It was just a bunch of information, but it was handled well enough that he found it somewhat entertaining. He read longer than he'd expected.
Finally feeling sleepy, he put the book away.
This time, as he closed his eyes, he drifted off slowly and easily.
The hands of his little clock ticked rythmically across the room. It grew louder and slower as seconds passed.
Shortly after, a shift came so slowly he almost didn't notice.
At first, it was just warmth—a gentle heat spreading across his skin, like lying under rays of sunlight. It was somewhat pleasing. He sank deeper into it, his muscles loosening.
Then, the warmth began to fade.
Bit by bit, it bled away until his skin felt cool. Then cold. It seeped into his bones like water through cracks. Alden shifted in his sleep, curling tighter.
'What's with the weather?'
Also, it felt like he was floating.
No. Falling.
No—neither. He couldn't quite put it into words.
Words... He could hear low, indistinct murmurs drifting from somewhere distant. Alden frowned in his half-sleep. Had he left the TV on? No. He didn't have a TV.
He tried to shift position and realized he couldn't feel the mattress beneath him.
His eyes snapped open.
The ceiling was gone. The water stain, the light fixture, the four walls of his rented box. All of it, gone.
In its place was something else. Something he could hardly describe.