“Hole In The Wall” • Written and Narrated by Rob Dircks

Hello, Rob here. I hate to do this, but I really can’t say anything about this story up front without giving it away, except that it’s about someone who volunteers for a test, not knowing much about it.

Listen to the Audio (15 min):

Subscribe to the podcast on iTunes

Read the Story (2,500 words / 9-minute read):

“Hole In The Wall”

Written and narrated by Rob Dircks

“Please proceed to the dotted line. On the floor there.” 

“Um, okay.” I step awkwardly up to the line. “My toes are a little over. Is that okay? Should I back up? Like should I be on the line, or up to the line? Is this part of the test?” 

I can’t tell if the disembodied voice has eyes it’s rolling right now, or if it might be sighing to itself. It just moves on. “Now look into the small opening on the left. Try not to squint.” 

I notice the holes in the wall, in the otherwise completely blank, white room, for the first time. “Should I take the goggles off? I think I’d see better without the goggles.” 

“No. The goggles are part of the test.” 

I think I heard a little sigh in there that time. “Okay, sorry.” I squint into the hole on the left. “Oh, whoops. Sorry, I was squinting. Can we start over?” 

“The test hasn’t started yet.”

“Right.” 

“Continue looking into the small opening on the left.” 

I follow the command, but as happens, now that I’m being told to look into the left hole, that right hole is absolutely begging to be looked into.  Two seconds ago I didn’t give a shit about either of the holes, I didn’t even notice them, but now the right one has become super important to my caveman brain. Like there’s nothing more important. I can’t stop thinking about it. Wait. Is this the test? To confirm that I have precisely zero self control? 

“Um, excuse me. I’m looking into the left hole, just like you said, but is it okay if I peek into the right one for a second? It’s just got me curious.” 

“Do not look into the small opening on the right. Continue looking into the small opening on the left.” 

“Okay, but you know how that works, right? Like you tell me not to, and now I kind of have to.” 

“The test has started. Continue looking into the small opening on the left. Under no circumstances look into the small opening on the right.” 

Okay, they pulled out the under no circumstances. They must think it’s important. But really, if they didn’t want me to look into the right hole, they didn’t have to put it there. I mean, it’s right next to the left one. I think they’re messing with me. You know what?

Fuck it. 

I shift my weight, ever so slightly, hoping they won’t notice, and turn my head a millimeter, and take the quickest glance ever into the right hole. Actually, at this angle, I’m kind of looking into both holes. 

And something starts happening. 

The areas behind the holes start vibrating. My stomach turns, that first flash of fear, like I know I just did something terribly wrong, and I look back directly into the left hole, pretending that fucking right hole doesn’t even exist, but it’s too late. The holes are becoming pretty fluid, like amoeba shaped, and the area between them is shimmering. Okay, now I can’t stop looking. I can’t even close my eyes. I can’t move. The shimmering area starts shooting out light, into the goggles, into my eyes, and dammit I can’t even squint anymore, it’s like my eyes are locked open. 

And then everything goes white. 

Some amount of time passes, it could be a second or an hour or a year, I squint against the white to see if I can make out anything