Chapter 1

The door chime woke John up.

While watching the news, he fell asleep, witnessing the deaths of two female reporters, one of whom a bystander had choked to death during a traffic accident. He was astounded to see the woman not resisting at all but trying to complete her report before dying. The other was a talk show model stabbed in the belly by one of the guests when she brought him a bottle of water. She had valiantly remained standing and smiling in the background, with her white minidress soaked in blood and getting paler and paler until expiring, with none of the talk show guests and hosts even looking in her direction.

It had been a restless sleep; his dreams were full of dead women and joyful killers. He saw the clock on the wall: 5:47 p.m. There was still daylight out there.

“Coming!” he said, walking to the door. He remembered that Sonia had told him that she was coming this evening, so he looked through the peephole, expecting to see her. But instead of Sonia, there was a short man in his sixties dressed in a white smock, looking like the proverbial insane scientist.

“Who is this?” he asked.

“Mr. Connors, I’m Dr. Paul Evans, and we need to talk,” the little man said.

The peephole had a wide field of view, and John saw that the man was alone. Wary, he opened the door but kept the chain on.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Mr. Connors, I assume you’re confused and maybe scared, and I hope to help you understand the happenings of the last few hours in your life.”

John thought it over. It was true that he was scared, but it was also true that he needed information. Besides, being in his twenties and in good shape, he knew he would have no problem subduing this little fellow in case of any “happening,” as the guy had said.

He released the chain, opened the door, and invited the man in.

“Thanks for receiving me, Mr. Connors. May I bother you with a place to sit? These old bones are not what they once were,” he said with a smile.

John gestured towards the sofa. The guy plopped on it with a grateful sigh.

“Okay,” said John. “I don’t know who you are, but you said you could explain the crazy things that have happened today.”

“Oh, yes, I can. Please sit; it might take a while,” said the old man affably.

“Make it short and to the point,” insisted John. I’m having a terrible day, and my temper is short,” he added.

“Ok. First of all, allow me to introduce myself.” My name is Dr. Paul Evans, and I’m the head of research at the Prentiss Physics Research Laboratory.” He looked at John, but after seeing no recognition in his face, he continued. “Are you familiar with the multiverse theory?”

John thought about it for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “There are several, even infinite, universes coexisting in the same space but on different planes of existence.”

Dr. Evans looked surprised. He hadn’t expected John to answer so accurately. “I’ve watched a lot of sci-fi movies,” John said in response to the unasked question.

“Oh, that makes my task a lot easier,” the old man smiled. “You see, one of my lab’s main projects has to do with opening portals between universes.” We were able to produce a stable window between our universe and another one, specifically yours.” “A wormhole,” John said. Dr. Evans’ face conveyed surprise for the second time in so many minutes. “Wormhole,” he muttered. “That’s a fantastic name for the portal. How come no one in the lab came with it?”

“You were explaining...” John was impatient. He hoped that the sooner he knew what had happened, the quicker things would return to normal.

“Oh, yes. Well, we managed to open a portal in our lab, but due to our lack of understanding, a flare erupted from it, damaging the contention wall and escaping to open another, temporary portal, which unfortunately hit your building directly through your window.” We surmise that the incident transpired overnight, leading us to believe that you were somehow involved. “You?” asked John, fearing the answer. “I’m referring to you and your doppelganger from this universe.”

John listened in silence. Somehow, this man’s story was so extraordinary that, if he hadn’t witnessed the reality of this world, he would never have believed it. Suddenly, a horrible thought came to his mind.

“Wait a minute ... are you implying that there is an alternate version of myself in my world, a version of myself that kills women at random?” The thought was disturbing. Perhaps “that” John had already killed another waitress in his world, with all its ghastly implications. He looked at Dr. Evans, who seemed to read his thoughts. His face said a lot.