Estimated reading time — 11 minutes

The following extracts are taken from the journal of Dr Graham Freeland, recovered from the site of Biosphere 217 on the colony world of the same designation. It is published here for the first time:
October 7
Today was my first day in the dome after I finally crossed over through the trans-dimensional rift. The advanced technology which brought me here is highly classified and describing it even in my private journal would be considered a federal crime. Therefore, I will not.
As for the journey itself…this was almost indescribable – a descent into a dark abyss…falling through the void of nothingness that exists between the dimensions. For a terrifying moment I feared I’d be trapped in that black non-existence for all eternity, but thankfully this didn’t happen, as my helpless body was dropped into this new world – my head spinning and the bile forcing its ways up my throat as I struggled to regain my composure.
I did of course complete the intensive training regime in preparation for this mission, but I don’t believe any briefing or simulation could fully prepare a candidate for crossing through a trans-dimensional portal.
My new teammates were on hand to offer assistance after my arrival, although they showed little sympathy for my plight.
I am the newest member of the five strong science team – my colleagues being Sanchez, Tang, Miller, and Peterson.
It’s hard to know what to make of my new colleagues on first impression. They are a sombre lot and rarely speak, instead focussing on their assigned tasks to keep the biosphere running. I guess their behaviour is understandable, given the oppressive nature of the colony.
The biosphere itself is a feat of engineering genius – the next generation of closed and self-sufficient ecosystems. We are sealed off from the world outside, our energy provided by solar panels which harvest the immense power of the sun during daylight hours. Our water supply comes from an underground source, and our plants and vegetables provide oxygen and food.
Our mission is to maintain a presence on this strange world, which is being assessed for potential colonisation and mineral exploitation. The former seems highly unlikely, as the outside environment is hostile and surely uninhabitable for human beings.
The air is unbreathable for our lungs and the intense temperatures during daylight hours would not be survivable without protective clothing. When the intense sun shines, we look out upon a seemingly lifeless desert of endless red sands. Nights are a different matter, however.
It seems that the animal life on this world is nocturnal, and some are predatory and apparently dangerous. I am yet to see any of these creatures myself, but my teammates have instructed me that the airlock must remained closed at all times.
The biosphere is equipped with hidden defences and we have all been issued with firearms, to be used in the unlikely event of a breach. Honestly, I find all this information disconcerting, and my first night in the dome has been a restless one, as I can’t help but glance wearily into the darkness beyond our glass walls.
I hope this anxiety will pass as I assume my duties and form a professional bond with my new colleagues and co-inhabitants. Time will tell.
October 10
Three days in and I’m still finding my feet in this strange place – a vivarium on an alien world. The days are tolerable, as we are all occupied with our daily work tasks. And I can take some small comfort from the sun shining down upon me as I tend to the plants and replace the air filters.
But the nights are a time of tension and implied threat.
Tonight I had my first encounter with one of this world’s native organisms. Truthfully, I only caught a brief glimpse of the beast – a large, winged predator which landed on the roof of the dome, perching there like a pigeon might rest upon a balcony.
I simply stood there looking up, awestruck by the sight as I tried to make out the winged beast’s features in the darkness. But Tang jumped into action straight away, running to the control panel and typing in a command which activated the biosphere’s security system.
A moment later and the dome’s exterior was electrified, hitting the aerial predator with a substantial shock. The creature screeched in pain and took off, ascending back into the dark skies above.
We all breathed a deep sigh of relief in that moment, but Tang instructed us to remain alert until dawn. I get the impression that there are greater threats on this world, but my more experienced colleagues are unwilling to talk about them.
Miller has been here the longest, having been part of the original survey team which constructed the biosphere. I understand this first party took casualties, although the details are sketchy. Whatever happened, Miller seems haunted by it – like a dark cloud is hanging over him.
I’m wondering whether I made a serious mistake by accepting this mission. The bosses back home weren’t straight with me about the dangers here. A relief party will be arriving through the portal in a week’s time, and I intend to raise my concerns with them once they arrive. If the situation continues to deteriorate, I will insist they take me home.
October 12
Miller is dead. I’m still in a state of shock as I write this. My hand is shaking, and I simply can’t comprehend the horrors I’ve just witnessed. The events leading up to his death don’t seem real, nor does the aftermath. Nevertheless, I’ll do my best to describe the incident.
The madness happened after sunset, as is always the case. We were eating our evening meal when a distress call came through on the radio. Somebody was hailing us – which made no sense, because there were only five human beings on this entire world, and we were all sitting together at the dining table.
I saw the reactions in my colleagues’ faces, the terror in their wide eyes as we all listened to the ominous static. A tense pause followed before Tang took action, rising from her chair and slowly walking over to the receiver.
The voice we heard on the other side was chilling. My blood froze as I listened to a woman screaming down the radio, pleading for help…begging to be let in.
I couldn’t understand what was happening, and I think some of my colleagues were equally baffled. But not Miller. I saw the recognition on his face, his eyes lighting up with a deeply buried passion and sense of purpose.
“Carla!” he cried out, “Carla’s come home!”
In an instant he was up on his feet and sprinting towards the perimeter. Tang shouted after him, but there was no stopping Miller. We all rose from the table and ran after him. Miller went straight for the airlock door and I was astonished to see a figure standing on the far side of the vivarium’s thick glass, her form illuminated by the lights from inside the dome.
The figure was a human being – a woman to be specific. She wore an environmental suit and helmet, but we could see her face behind the visor. She was on the outside but desperate to get inside, banging her fists on the glass as she pleaded for help. And Miller was determined to save her.
To our collective horror, the desperate man started to operate the controls to the airlock.
“No!” Tang screamed, “Don’t do it, Miller! It’s not her!”
But Miller didn’t listen. It seemed nothing would stop him from opening that door and exposing us to the horrors of this world.
It all happened so fast, before any of us could react. Tang had her gun out in an instant, shouting one final warning with her finger on the trigger. Miller glanced over his shoulder, seeing the pistol aimed at him. But ‘Carla’ kept banging on the glass, and Miller soon returned to working the door.
Tang fired three shots in quick succession, striking Miller in the back. And we all watched on in awestruck horror as Miller’s body slumped over and he collapsed to the ground. But what happened next was perhaps the most terrifying part of the macabre tale – an event which seems to defy any logical explanation.
‘Carla’ stopped begging after Miller fell dead. She’d given up on getting inside, but perhaps her wicked objective had already been achieved. She stopped begging and started to laugh – emitting a foul cackle that we could hear clearly through the radio. And when we looked through her visor, we witnessed something inhuman – her eyes turning jet black and her mouth opening to reveal rows of jagged, yellow teeth.
She continued her mocking laughter for another moment before retreating from the glass and disappearing back into the darkness.
It’s been hours since the shooting, and the situation has calmed down…somewhat. We removed Miller’s corpse, placing him in a vacuum zip bag inside the refrigerator so he can be shipped back to Earth for burial. But we have no means of contacting home base and will need to wait for the relief team’s arrival.
The tension between us survivors is palpable. Tang killed one of her team members with barely a second’s hesitation. Did she need to do it? Probably. God knows what would have happened if Miller had opened that airlock. Still, if Tang can kill a man so easily, she could do it again.
But what really terrifies me is the entity that was trying to get inside. It transpires that Carla was a member of the original survey team and had gone missing a year earlier. Clearly Miller had been close to her, and I suspect their relationship was more than professional. But that’s neither here nor there.
The real Carla is surely long dead, but whatever that thing outside was could take on her appearance and mimic her voice. I don’t know what the entity is, but clearly its intelligent. Thirty seconds later and it would have been inside the biosphere thanks to its manipulation of Miller.
Clearly I’ve come to a very dangerous place, with deadly threats on the outside and a murderous tension inside. All of us have taken to carrying sidearms now, and we avoid each other’s company as much as is possible.
The daytime brings some relief from our stresses, but we are always in fear of the night. Surely our mission must be aborted. We just need to last until the relief party gets here – then we can go home.
October 13
I swear I can see shadows moving just outside of the glass – shadows cast by huge creatures stalking the Badlands in the dead of night. I haven’t slept in days. Every time I close my eyes, I see monsters emerging from the black void, jaws open and ready to devour my flesh.
I am falling apart, but I’m not the only one. Sanchez has cut himself off entirely, refusing to leave his living quarters even during the daylight hours. But that’s nothing compared to Peterson. She’s being sitting crossed legged at the perimeter for hours now, staring blankly out into the darkness.
I tried to gain the woman’s attention, asking her what she saw in the darkness. But Peterson would not turn away from the glass, merely muttering about ‘those beautiful things’ before returning to her silent vigil.
Tang has assumed a leadership role, going through the motions as she spends the day completing routine maintenance tasks whilst patrolling the perimeter at night, rifle in hand. She’s acting tough but I can see the fear in her eyes, and I think Tang is close to breaking point. I don’t blame her.
I don’t believe in hell, but this twisted world is as close to it as I can imagine. The relief party will arrive in five days, but that seems an eternity away. We all fear the next attack; in whatever form it comes.
October 14
We had to break into Sanchez’s living quarters this morning. Tang insisted on it. The woman feared the worst, and it turned out she was right. We found Sanchez dead in the bathroom; his wrists cut, and his blood spilt all over the floor.
The door was locked from the inside and so suicide is surely the only possible cause of death. Still, one can only wonder what demons got inside of the poor man’s head.
Tang and I had to deal with the body, securing him in yet another airtight bag and leaving him in the freezer beside Miller. Peterson did not assist us. She’s totally zoned out now – sleeping during the day, refusing food, and waiting for the night so she can continue her vigil at the dome’s perimeter.
Hope is almost gone, but there is still a glimmer. I imagine myself back home in mere days, and all this will be a distant nightmare.
October 15
Tang and I found Peterson dead this morning. She lay on the ground in front of the glass where she’d conducted her nighttime observations. It was the strangest thing, because there were no wounds on her body and no visible cause of death. It was as if she’d suddenly stopped breathing for some inexplicable reason.
I might have expected Peterson to sport a horrific death mask, as if she’d died of fright. But instead, her expression was eerily peaceful.
The now sadly familiar routine followed as we bagged the body.
Tang is becoming increasingly hostile, and this worries me. I don’t like the way she looks at me or some of the comments she’s made. Tang says that her team only started dying after I arrived here, therefore I must bear some responsibility.
This makes no sense as a theory, but her thought process has surely been corrupted by PTSD, fear, and sheer exhaustion. I’ll need to keep an eye on the woman, and perhaps I can’t rely on her – if or when there’s a further attack from the outside.
I will keep my sidearm close by at all times. Hopefully the gun will offer me some protection. If not, then God help me.
October 16
There is no longer any doubt – the monsters which rule the night are stalking the biosphere’s perimeter. I can see their hideous shapes in the darkness. The ground shakes as they stomp across the land, and their din can be heard even through the dome’s thick glass – thunderous, guttural roars and high-pitched, banshee-like wails.
They haven’t attempted to break into the biosphere yet…but surely it’s only a matter of time.
Tang does not seem aware of this external threat. She’s become obsessed with finding a reason for the deaths of Sanchez and Peterson, believing she can establish a scientific cause for all this tragedy and madness.
She came to me just an hour ago, a wild look in her eyes as she excitedly explained her latest theory.
“It’s the water!” she told me, “The water we extract from the ground. Don’t you see? Its poisoned. We’re hallucinating because of it…the incidents, the deaths…it all connects!”
I tried to remain calm whilst rebuking Tang’s outrageous claims, explaining that the water couldn’t be poisoned, as all our plants were grown from the native source, and her team members had been drinking the liquid for months with no ill effects.
Tang didn’t react well however, becoming angry and screaming in my face, saying I was a fool and wouldn’t survive what was coming. Thankfully, she left my living quarters without resorting to violence. Still, I fear it’s only a matter of time before she turns on me.
I’m exhausted and frightened, and this has impacted on my thought process. I fantasise about opening the airlock door and escaping from this claustrophobic environment, taking my chances on the outside.
What madness is this? I need to keep my head. Just two more days until the portal opens. I must hold on.
October 17
Tang came for me during the night, breaking into my living quarters with a murderous intent. I had fallen asleep in the early hours through sheer exhaustion but awoke suddenly to find her standing over my bed with a knife ready to stab into my exposed throat.
I reacted on pure instinct, narrowly avoiding the killer blow and fighting in self-defence. A desperate struggle ensued as we both fought for our lives. I managed to push her off me, grabbing for the gun on my side table. Without thinking I aimed and fired, shooting Tang twice in the chest at near point-blank range.
I watched as her body collapsed against the wall and the light faded from her eyes. It was only then that the sheer horror hit home for me. I was a killer now, and this was something I could never take back.
There was no-one left to help me with the body, and so I had to drag Tang out and secure her in the zip bag. I looked upon her one last time before sealing it up, feeling an icy cold chill as I secured her inside.
Tang is gone – dead by my own hands. I’d never even learnt her first name.
The immediate threat to my life has been eliminated, but now I’m all alone in this hellscape, and I don’t believe I’ll survive another night.
October 18
Today the final glimmer of hope was erased. The darkness…the vile corruption which dominates this world has fully infiltrated our biosphere. I don’t mean that the stalking beasts have smashed through the dome’s glass barriers. This may still happen, but the evil’s invasion has been more subtle.
I awoke this morning to find all the plants had withered and died in the matter of a few short hours. How could this have happened? I can no longer even speculate. Perhaps Tang was right about the water being poisoned. Or maybe everything we grow on this hellscape is doomed to die.
The plants are dead and the oxygen is slowly running out. Even our machinery and equipment are rapidly rusting and falling apart. But it’s worse than that. It’s not just the biosphere which is failing. The darkness and equipment – its inside of me. I can feel it under my skin and in my head. I fear that soon the evil will take over every part of me.
But I only need to hold on for a little longer. Night has fallen – my last night on this world or any other. The main power supply has failed, leaving only the emergency lighting to dimly illuminate the dome’s dying interior.
The monsters on the outside are no longer holding back. Now they smash their claws against the glass and attack from the dark skies above – their hideous, bloodthirsty eyes looking upon me with a ravenous hunger.
I sit with a rifle in my hands, but it is not my intention to fight the monsters, even if they make it inside. Instead I am waiting on the relief party arriving from home.
But I no longer plan to escape. I know it’s too late for that. The darkness is inside me now, and there’s no way to cut it out.
I have a new plan. Unfortunately I lack the ability to destroy the biosphere or portal entryway, but I am determined to prevent the relief party from crossing over. The evil which dwells here is too great, and it cannot be allowed to return to Earth.
So, I will stop them in their tracks, firmly instructing the team that they must return home and leave this hellscape, never to return. I will try to forcefully explain the situation to the newcomers, but if they don’t listen…well, that’s why I have the rifle.
One way or another, this will end come sunrise.

Credit: Mark Lynch

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