The Transdimensional Inn

Don't open the door

Noah stepped into the kitchen, carefully shutting the door behind him. He switched on the range hood, and the harsh, mechanical sound filled the air. Strangely enough, the noise, instead of aggravating him, had a calming effect. It was as if the thin wooden door and the loud hum of the kitchen fan managed to shut out the chaotic, eerie world outside—allowing him, for just a moment, to return to a place that truly felt like his own. In this small kitchen, he could almost pretend he wasn’t trapped in that sprawling, bizarre "Boundary City," but back home in the familiar comfort of his true "home."

The large house was utterly unlike his original home, except for this one small kitchen, which closely resembled the structure he remembered. So, after settling in as much as one could in this strange place, he had done his best to recreate it as faithfully as possible, arranging it in a way that mirrored the kitchen from his past.

Every day, as he cooked here, he pretended he was back home—that he hadn’t, on that fateful morning, stepped outside his door into a city full of unsettling shadows and foreign landscapes. Sometimes, while busying himself in the kitchen, he could almost believe that if he just glanced up, he would see the familiar view outside the window: the old street bathed in the soft orange glow of twilight, with the sun’s warm light cascading over the weathered façades of the apartment buildings.

But the view outside always shattered his fleeting illusions. Now, when he looked out, all he saw was a barren patch of earth and the dilapidated low houses in the distance. There were no apartment buildings, only a tangle of power lines, and the comforting sky from his memories had been absent for what felt like a long time.

In this city, the sky was either a blinding, searing white or an oppressive, smothering gloom.

Noah sighed and pulled down the blinds, blocking out the shadowy night that seemed to stretch endlessly beyond the glass.

He turned back to his routine—washing vegetables, heating the pan, and sautéing garlic. The sizzling sound from the pan mingled with the faint noise of the television from the other room. Despite the strangeness of the city, it still had modern conveniences like TV and cell phones, and in the early days, most of Noah’s knowledge about this "Boundary City" had come from watching TV shows and scrolling through news on his phone. Even now, it remained one of his main ways of understanding this strange world.

“Noah! The TV’s too quiet! Can you turn it up, please?”

The sudden outburst from the girl outside startled him, and his hand jerked, nearly sending the food tumbling out of the pan.

He had almost forgotten about Eileen out there.

Back when he used to cook, there had been no one in the next room talking to him!

"Wait a minute!" Noah shouted back, not exactly politely, and muttered under his breath, “...She sure acts like she owns the place…”

But a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. Well, it wasn’t so bad. At least her presence brought some life into the house, adding a bit of liveliness to an otherwise eerie space.

A short while later, Noah emerged from the kitchen, carrying a steaming tray of food. He set the dishes on the table and, without a word, turned up the TV volume by two notches for Eileen before sitting down opposite her painting. Noah didn’t have the habit of watching TV while eating, but he left it on for background noise, something that didn’t interfere with Eileen’s limited view from her frame.

Eileen, from inside the painting, hugged her stuffed bear and peeked at the food, glancing between the dishes and the TV, mumbling, “Looks like quite a feast…”

“Just some simple home cooking,” Noah replied casually, “I enjoy cooking.”

“Oh.” Eileen acknowledged his words with a soft "oh," then resumed watching TV. But after Noah had begun eating, she kept sneaking glances at the table, until she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “So, you’re just going to eat while I watch?”

Noah raised an eyebrow, waving his chopsticks near the edge of the painting. “Want a bite?”

Eileen’s eyes widened, then she looked down and sulked.

“...Alright, fine.” Seeing her pout, Noah sighed in exasperation and went back to the kitchen to grab an extra bowl. He dished out some food from his plate into the empty bowl and placed it in front of Eileen’s painting. “There, I’ve set a bowl for you. You can at least enjoy the smell—though I’ll be the one eating it in the end.”

Eileen frowned at the bowl in front of the painting, then shrugged. “Alright, fine—thanks, I guess. You’re thoughtful, I’ll give you that…”

Noah kept eating, muttering a reply through his mouthful of food, until he glanced up and saw Eileen’s face peering out from the painting, and the bowl of food sitting there. Something felt off…

Eileen, oblivious, noticed Noah’s dazed look and raised an eyebrow. “What are you staring at?”

Noah quickly resumed eating, but every time he looked up, the image stayed the same—Eileen’s face in the dark painting, the bowl of food in front of her.

It reminded him unsettlingly of something like a memorial portrait, complete with offerings.

He nearly choked, but kept the thought to himself—mostly because Eileen’s insults were merciless.

So, he focused on eating, trying to avoid eye contact with the eerie, life-like painting across the table. The whole meal felt like some strange, solemn ritual.

Finally, when the meal was over, Noah cleared the dishes and tossed them into the sink, intending to deal with them in the morning—his back still ached too much to stand and wash them now.

But dishes could wait; trash couldn’t. The kitchen garbage couldn’t be left overnight, especially in this season. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his back, he tied up the garbage and headed toward the door.

From behind him, Eileen’s voice piped up, “Hey, where are you going this late?”

“I didn’t know I had to report my movements to you,” Noah shot back, though he waved the garbage bag for her to see. “I’m just taking out the trash.”

“Oh. Well, come back soon,” Eileen said, her eyes already back on the TV. “This big house is creepy when I’m all alone—what if a burglar comes in…”

Noah rolled his eyes. In a house this creepy, the burglar would probably be the one calling the cops after seeing a ghost-like figure flitting about in a painting.

But he kept that thought to himself.

With a shake of his head, he opened the door, slipping into his shoes as he reached for the handle.

As his hand gripped the door, something stirred in his memory. He recalled a morning, two months ago, that had seemed as ordinary as any other. Just like now, he had opened the door and stepped outside, only to find himself in that suffocating, strange city—and he still hadn’t made it back.

A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he opened the door and stepped out.

The sound of a brittle twig snapping beneath his foot broke the stillness of the night. The cold wind carried with it a nauseating scent of decay and rot. The chill in the air made Noah shiver, instinctively clutching his thin clothes tighter. It took him several seconds to reboot his mind, which had frozen at the sudden shift.

He stood among crumbling stones and barren earth. In the distance, under the eerie night sky, a dense, ominous forest loomed, while jagged mountains towered on either side like silent, menacing giants. The oppressive weight of their presence bore down on him.

Noah stood rigid in the cold night air. Slowly, he turned back toward where he had come from.

What met his gaze was the ruin of what seemed like an abandoned, collapsed temple, crumbling as though it had been forgotten for a hundred years. A lone, crooked doorframe—barely holding onto a splintered door—stood amid the debris. The wind howled through the gaps, producing an eerie, hollow wail.

Noah’s eyes widened. “Where the hell am I now?”

It dawned on him.

With the turn of that door handle, history had repeated itself.

Once again, he had been thrown into a foreign place.

And this time, it was worse. Unlike the strange but functional Boundary City, which, despite its oddities, was still a modern metropolis, this time he had been dropped into a desolate wilderness.

A forest ahead, treacherous mountains on both sides, and behind him—the ruins of an ancient, forgotten temple. Noah surveyed the landscape and couldn’t help but think that the setting seemed perfect for a bandit ambush or a supernatural encounter…

And all he had in his hand was a bag of kitchen trash.

He muttered a long string of curses under his breath.

But before he could finish his colorful thoughts, a voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

“Noah! The TV’s lost signal! When are you coming back?”