“Abyss Watch”

Part I

When I applied to Skybound Jump Arena, I thought my biggest problems would be screaming toddlers, the occasional vomit in the foam pit, and maybe the off chance I’d have to tell someone twice my size to stop having fun. I was wrong. So, so wrong.

On my first day, I stood awkwardly in the break room in my bright blue uniform—a polyester monstrosity with a logo that resembled a stick figure mid-face-plant. Around me, other employees were chatting, downing energy drinks, and trying to seem cooler than they were. I was trying not to sweat through my shirt and wondering if it was too late to quit.

Eric Hoffman, the manager, shuffled in with a clipboard and an aura of desperation. He was everything you’d expect from a guy who manages a trampoline park: receding hairline, polyester tie, and the kind of voice that could suck the fun out of a fireworks show. He smelled faintly of pepperoni Hot Pockets.

“Jake Evans?” he called out.

“Here,” I said, waving a little too enthusiastically.

He motioned for me to follow him into his office—a closet-sized room decorated with laminated safety posters and a single plant that looked like it had long ago given up on life.

“Jake,” he began, closing the door and folding his hands like he was about to fire me before I even started, “you’ve been assigned a… special duty.”

I blinked. “Is this where you tell me I’m cleaning the bathrooms?”

Eric didn’t laugh. He adjusted his tie, leaned forward, and said, “You’re on Abyss Watch.”

“Abyss Watch,” I repeated, trying not to laugh. “Sounds spooky. Is that, like, a fancy way of saying I keep kids out of the sketchy part of the park?”

“Yes,” Eric said gravely. “And no.”

I waited for him to explain. He didn’t.

“Okay…” I said, dragging the word out. “What’s the deal? A mouse problem? Faulty wiring?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you really want to know why that corner of the park is taped off?”

“Because… it’s under repair?”

“Wrong!” Eric said, pointing a finger like I’d failed a pop quiz. “It’s not broken. It’s dangerous.”

He launched into an explanation that sounded like it had been rehearsed in front of a mirror. Apparently, the Skybound Jump Arena was built on what he dramatically called “consecrated ground”—which is manager-speak for “probably an old burial site.” He told me there was a hole in the corner of the park where the wall padding had come loose years ago, exposing what everyone thought was a gap in the drywall. Except it wasn’t.

“It’s a portal,” Eric said, his face so serious I thought he might cry. “To another dimension.”

I waited for the punchline. There wasn’t one.

“Right,” I said, nodding like I totally believed him. “And what’s in the other dimension? Narnia? Wonderland?”

“Demons,” Eric said flatly. “Big, clawed ones. They don’t cross over often, but when they do…” He trailed off, staring into the middle distance like a soldier recalling a war.

“That’s… intense,” I managed, biting back laughter.

Eric stood, pacing the tiny office. “The rumors you’ve heard—the burial ground, the missing kids? All true. Well, except the parts we made up. Management started the extra rumors to make it seem less serious. If the public knew the truth, this place would’ve been shut down years ago.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Because someone has to keep an eye on it,” Eric said. “The last employee assigned to Abyss Watch… didn’t last.”

“What happened to them?”

“They stared into the Abyss for too long.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And it… stared back?”

“They went insane!” Eric said, ignoring my sarcasm. “But don’t worry, Jacob. We have protocols now. Fifteen-minute shifts. Never look directly into the gap. Keep kids away at all costs. And if anything comes through…” He reached under his desk and produced a Super Soaker, slamming it onto the table like it was Excalibur. “Use this.”

I picked it up, sniffing the nozzle. “Is this… full of chlorine?”

“Holy water,” Eric corrected.

“Right. Because that’s a normal thing to have at a trampoline park.”

Eric didn’t laugh.

I didn’t believe a word of it, obviously, but I needed the money, and standing by a taped-off corner of the park sounded a whole lot better than chasing kids out of a foam pit. So I nodded and said, “Sure thing, boss. Demons. Got it.”

Eric handed me a flashlight, patted me reassuringly on the shoulder, and sent me off with a grim, “Good luck.”

As I walked to my post, I muttered to myself, “This job better come with hazard pay.”

Part II

For something Eric insisted was “unspeakably dangerous,” the Abyss Zone was disappointingly boring. It was just a taped-off corner near the far wall of the trampoline park, with a ripped patch of padding that exposed a narrow gap at the bottom. The only thing remotely ominous was the smell—a faint metallic tang, like someone had left a can of soda open in a dusty attic.

I was stationed there with a folding chair, a walkie-talkie, and the Super Soaker. It felt less like I was guarding a demon portal and more like I was waiting for the world’s worst camping trip to end.

The first hour was uneventful. A few kids wandered too close, and I waved them off with my best “serious employee” voice.

“Keep moving,” I’d say. “The tape’s there for a reason.”

Of course, they didn’t listen the first time. Kids never do. One kid, a boy about twelve, got as close as the tape before I stepped in front of him.

“What’s back there?” he asked, grinning like a daredevil.

“Broken equipment,” I said. “Super boring. Go jump on the trampolines or something.”

“That’s not what I heard,” he said, rocking on his heels.

“Oh yeah? What’d you hear?”

“That there’s a portal back there,” he said, his grin widening. “To, like, hell or something.”

I laughed. “Wow, original. Where’d you hear that? The internet?”

“Ryan,” he said, gesturing toward one of the older employees.

I made a mental note to punch Ryan later.

“Look, there’s no portal,” I said. “Just some drywall and duct tape. Now scram before I call your mom.”

The kid rolled his eyes and walked off, but not before muttering something about me being lame. Honestly, if that was the worst I had to deal with, this job might not be so bad.

About twenty minutes later, things got weird.

I was sitting in my chair, scrolling through my phone, when I heard it—a faint, whispering sound. At first, I thought it was just the AC kicking on, but then it came again. A low, murmuring whisper, just loud enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Hello?” I called out, more annoyed than scared.

No answer.

The whispering stopped for a moment, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Then a dodgeball came rolling toward me.

I frowned. There were no kids nearby, no one to throw it. I looked up, expecting to see someone sprinting off in the distance, but the trampoline park was quiet. Too quiet.

The ball came to a stop at the edge of the tape, just in front of the gap.

I got up and approached it cautiously. “Okay, very funny. Whoever threw this, you can come out now.”

Nothing.

I bent down to pick up the ball. That’s when I noticed the air near the gap. It was… colder. Not just AC-chilly but bone-deep cold, the kind that makes your breath fog.

For a second, I thought about what Eric had said. “Don’t look into the gap,” he’d warned. I rolled my eyes at the memory. There was no way this was anything other than a weird draft.

Still, I stayed back as I grabbed the ball.

As soon as my fingers touched it, I heard the whisper again—closer this time.

“Who’s there?” I called out, my voice cracking in a way that definitely wasn’t cool.

The dodgeball slipped from my hands and rolled into the gap.

I froze.

It didn’t bounce. It didn’t stop. It just… vanished.

There wasn’t even an echo. It was like the ball had been swallowed by the gap, disappearing into the darkness.

I backed up a step, my heart pounding harder than I wanted to admit.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself. “Drafts don’t eat dodgeballs. That’s new.”

I turned to grab the walkie-talkie and call Eric, but before I could, a group of kids came running toward the tape.

“Hey!” I shouted, stepping in their path. “Stay back!”

One of them, a bold-looking boy I recognized as Tommy, ducked under my arm and ran straight for the gap.

“Tommy, stop!” I yelled, but he didn’t listen.

“Relax!” he called over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna peek!”

“No, you’re not!” I dropped the Super Soaker and bolted after him.

I grabbed for his arm, but Tommy was fast. He reached the gap and bent down to look inside.

For a split second, nothing happened. I thought maybe Eric’s warnings were just paranoia.

Then it came.

Something shot out of the gap—fast, black, and clawed. I didn’t get a good look before it grabbed Tommy’s ankle and yanked him in.

He screamed, flailing as he disappeared into the darkness.

I reached the gap just in time to grab his hand, but it was slippery, like something wet had coated it.

“Hold on!” I yelled, pulling as hard as I could.

But the gap seemed to grow wider, and I saw it—red light, glowing faintly inside. Shapes moved in the shadows, too big and too fast to be anything natural.

And then Tommy was gone.

I sat there, stunned, staring at the gap as it shrank back to its normal size. The red light disappeared, leaving only the faint metallic smell.

“Eric,” I whispered, grabbing the walkie-talkie. “We’ve got a problem.”

Part III

Eric arrived five minutes later, looking surprisingly calm for a guy whose customer had just been devoured by a hole in the floor.

“What did I tell you?” he said, wagging a finger. “Never let a customer near the gap!”

I stared at him. “Eric, a kid just got sucked into trampoline hell! Can we skip the lecture?”

Eric knelt by the gap, muttering to himself as he inspected it. He pressed a hand against the jagged edge of the padding, then immediately yanked it back, shaking his head.

“It’s active,” he said grimly.

“No kidding,” I snapped. “Tommy’s in there! We have to do something!”

Eric looked at me like I’d just suggested wrestling an alligator. “Are you crazy? We don’t go in there.”

“Well, what do we do?”

“We wait,” he said, standing up. “Sometimes it spits them back out.”

“Sometimes?” I repeated, my voice rising. “That’s your plan? Hope it spits him out like a bad piece of gum?”

Eric sighed and adjusted his tie, clearly annoyed that I was questioning his “expertise.” “Look, the Abyss doesn’t work like normal space. It bends time and dimensions. Tommy might not even be in there anymore.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “He was literally screaming when it grabbed him. I’m pretty sure he’s still in there!”

“Jake—”

“Nope!” I interrupted, grabbing the Super Soaker and flashlight. “I’m going in. You can keep babysitting the tape if you want.”

Eric grabbed my arm. “If you go in, you’re on your own.”

“Great pep talk, boss,” I said, shaking him off. “Maybe print that on the employee handbook.”

Before he could stop me, I crouched down and crawled into the gap.

I’d expected the inside of the Abyss to be dark and cramped, like an air duct or crawlspace. What I got was… different.

I emerged into what looked like the world’s worst trampoline park. The floor was springy but uneven, like a massive quilt made of stretched-out trampolines. The air shimmered with a faint red glow, casting shadows that didn’t match anything around me.

Above me, jagged shapes jutted out of the ceiling, forming a chaotic maze of crisscrossing platforms. The walls weren’t solid—they pulsed and shifted, as if made of living fabric.

The worst part? It smelled like a combination of sulfur and burned hair.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself, gripping the flashlight. “This is officially worse than the foam pit.”

I stepped forward carefully, testing the ground with each step. It wobbled under my weight, but it held.

“Tommy!” I shouted, my voice echoing unnaturally.

The echo didn’t fade. It just kept going, bouncing off the walls until it sounded like a dozen voices whispering my name.

I shivered and kept moving.

After a few minutes, I spotted something in the distance—a figure dangling from one of the platforms. It was Tommy.

“Hang on!” I yelled, breaking into a run.

Big mistake. The ground wobbled wildly, throwing me off balance. I stumbled and almost fell into one of the glowing red pools scattered across the floor. Whatever was in those pools, it definitely wasn’t water—it bubbled and hissed like acid.

I slowed down, moving more carefully. As I got closer, I realized Tommy wasn’t just dangling—he was stuck. Something had him pinned against the platform, a set of long, clawed fingers wrapped around his torso.

And then I saw it.

The demon.

It looked like a vulture on steroids—massive, with leathery wings and glowing red eyes. Its claws dug into the platform, keeping it steady as it leaned over Tommy, sniffing at him like a chef inspecting a steak.

“Hey!” I shouted, aiming the Super Soaker. “Pick on someone your own size!”

The demon turned its head toward me, tilting it at an unnatural angle. For a moment, it just stared. Then it opened its mouth, revealing rows of jagged teeth, and let out a screech that rattled my skull.

I fired the Super Soaker.

The jet of water hit the demon square in the face. It recoiled, hissing and flapping its wings as the water sizzled against its skin.

“Holy water for the win,” I muttered, running toward Tommy.

I grabbed his arm and started pulling. “Come on, kid, you’re not dying on my watch!”

The demon recovered faster than I expected. It lunged toward us, claws outstretched. I yanked Tommy free just in time, and we both tumbled onto the trampoline-like floor.

“Run!” I shouted, dragging Tommy to his feet.

We bolted across the uneven ground, dodging red pools and collapsing platforms. Behind us, the demon screeched again, joined by a chorus of answering cries.

“Great,” I muttered. “There’s more of them.”

By some miracle—or dumb luck—we made it to a section of the floor that seemed more stable. The demons were gaining on us, their glowing eyes and snapping jaws getting closer with every second.

I turned and fired the Super Soaker again, spraying wildly. A few demons hissed and backed off, but it wasn’t enough.

“We’re not gonna make it!” Tommy shouted.

“Not with that attitude!” I snapped, grabbing him by the collar. “Keep moving!”

Up ahead, I saw what appeared to be a ramp leading to a higher platform. If we could reach it, maybe we’d have a chance.

“Go!” I yelled, shoving Tommy forward.

He scrambled up the ramp, and I followed, slipping on the unstable surface. One of the demons lunged at me, its claws raking across my leg. I yelped but kept climbing, firing the Super Soaker over my shoulder.

We reached the top just as the ramp collapsed behind us, sending the demons tumbling into the red pools below.

I collapsed onto the platform, gasping for breath.

“That… was insane,” Tommy panted.

“Yeah,” I said, staring at the hissing pools below. “Welcome to the Abyss.”

Part IV

I practically fell out of the gap, dragging Tommy with me. My hands were shaking, my leg was throbbing from the demon’s claws, and my heart felt like it was about to burst through my chest. The Super Soaker clattered to the floor, now half-empty and smelling even more like chlorine than when I’d started.

“Get back!” I shouted, kicking away from the gap.

Tommy scrambled beside me, his face pale and streaked with sweat. For a moment, everything was still. Then the gap pulsed. The jagged edges of the padding stretched outward like something was trying to claw its way through.

“Oh, no,” I muttered. “No, no, no. You stay in there, you ugly—”

Before I could finish, the gap exploded outward, sending bits of foam padding flying. A clawed hand emerged first, followed by glowing red eyes. The demon from inside the Abyss was back, and this time, it wasn’t alone.

“Eric!” I screamed into the walkie-talkie. “They’re coming through! Do something!”

The static crackled before his monotone voice replied. “Don’t panic. I’m on my way.”

“Don’t panic?!” I yelled, staring as the demons began pushing their way out. “What part of this says not panic to you?”

Eric showed up a few minutes later, and for once, I was relieved to see him. He was holding a duct-taped book that looked like it had been stolen from the clearance bin at a fake witchcraft store. In his other hand, he carried a flashlight that probably cost more than my paycheck.

“Stand back,” he said, marching toward the gap like some kind of supernatural librarian.

“Stand back?” I shouted. “Eric, they’re climbing out!”

Eric ignored me and opened the book, flipping through pages that were covered in handwritten notes and what looked like coffee stains. He began mumbling words I couldn’t understand, his voice low and deliberate.

The demons didn’t seem impressed. One of them lunged forward, claws scraping against the trampoline floor as it dragged itself closer to us.

“This isn’t working!” I said, grabbing the Super Soaker.

I aimed it at the demon’s face and fired, but the stream sputtered—almost empty. The demon snarled, its glowing eyes narrowing as it prepared to lunge.

I glanced around in a panic and saw a crumpled magazine lying nearby, one of those cheesy company newsletters they handed out to employees but no one ever read.

“Sorry, Skybound Weekly,” I muttered, grabbing it. I dunked the magazine into the Super Soaker’s remaining water, soaking it thoroughly.

The demon leaped forward just as I swung. I smacked it hard on the snout with the soggy magazine.

“Bad demon!” I shouted, like I was scolding a misbehaving dog. “No clawing employees!”

The demon recoiled, hissing and shaking its head like it couldn’t believe I’d just paper-trained it.

Eric looked up from his book, a stunned expression on his face. “Did you… Did you just hit it with a magazine?”

“And it worked!” I yelled back, brandishing my makeshift weapon.

The demon snarled again, but I waved the dripping magazine threateningly, and it backed off. For a moment, I felt almost invincible—then the largest demon let out a deafening screech and lunged for Eric.

“Eric, hurry!” I shouted.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” he snapped, sprinkling something from a little salt packet around the gap.

The demons were hesitating now, their glowing eyes flickering as they watched the line of salt forming on the floor.

“Tommy, stay behind me,” I said, keeping the soggy magazine at the ready.

The gap began to shudder, its edges glowing with a faint red light as Eric chanted louder. The demons seemed to realize what was happening. One of them lunged at me again, claws outstretched.

With no water left and no time to think, I swung the magazine like a baseball bat, landing another wet smack across its snout.

The demon let out a high-pitched screech and retreated, clawing at its face.

“That’s right!” I shouted, adrenaline making me bold. “Fear the Skybound Monthly Employee Spotlight!”

Eric’s chanting reached a crescendo, and the gap began to collapse. The jagged edges shrank inward, pulling the red glow with them. The largest demon, still halfway through the gap, let out an earth-shaking roar and made one last desperate lunge.

“Eric!” I yelled. “Now would be a great time to finish whatever you’re doing!”

Eric slammed the book shut, muttered something under his breath, and threw the rest of the salt packet into the gap. The red glow flared, then vanished with a sound like thunder.

The gap was gone.

The demons were gone.

All that was left was the faint metallic smell and a scorch mark where the gap had been.

I collapsed onto the floor, the soggy magazine still clutched in my hand.

“That… was insane,” Tommy panted, leaning against me.

“Yeah,” I said, staring at the scorch mark. “And next time, you’re sticking to the ball pit.”

Eric stood over us, brushing salt off his hands. “Good work,” he said flatly.

“Good work?” I repeated, sitting up. “Eric, I just smacked a demon in the face with a wet newsletter! This isn’t in the training manual!”

He shrugged. “Improvisation is an important skill.”

I glared at him, but I was too tired to argue. Instead, I turned to Tommy. “Let’s get you home before your parents find out about this and sue us into the ground.”

Tommy nodded, his face pale but determined. “Thanks, Jake.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” I said. “Seriously. Don’t mention it. Ever.”

As we walked away, I couldn’t help but glance back at the scorch mark. For now, the gap was gone. But somehow, I knew this wasn’t the last I’d see of the Abyss.

Epilogue

Two weeks later, I was back at Skybound Jump Arena, staring at the taped-off corner of the Abyss Zone from the safety of the front desk. My leg still ached where the demon had scratched me, and every time I saw the scorch mark on the floor, I felt an involuntary shiver run down my spine.

Management had done a great job pretending nothing happened. The broken padding was “fixed,” the gap “sealed,” and the story Eric and I were told to stick to was that Tommy had simply “wandered off.” Apparently, no one was supposed to ask why the foam pit near the Abyss Zone had been mysteriously replaced overnight, or why the area still smelled faintly of sulfur.

It was just another day at Skybound. And, honestly, that was almost worse.

I wasn’t stationed at the Abyss Zone anymore, thank God. Eric insisted I’d “earned a break” and put me on dodgeball duty. Sure, it came with its own risks—dodging balls thrown by sugar-fueled seven-year-olds wasn’t exactly fun—but at least I didn’t have to deal with demons.

Then I saw him.

The new hire.

He was standing by the breakroom, nervously adjusting his oversized Skybound uniform. He looked about my age, with spiky hair and the kind of cocky smirk that said, I don’t take anything seriously.

Eric stood next to him, clipboard in hand, giving what I could only assume was the “special orientation.” I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I recognized the expression on the new hire’s face—half amusement, half Are you messing with me?

“That poor idiot,” I muttered.

Mia, who was organizing the wristbands behind the counter, glanced up. “What?”

“The new guy,” I said, nodding toward the scene. “Eric’s telling him about the Abyss Zone.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? You think he’ll believe it?”

I snorted. “Not a chance. I didn’t. He’ll laugh it off, spend an hour over there, and either quit or end up on the news.”

Mia rolled her eyes but smiled. “You could warn him, you know.”

“Yeah, I could,” I said, leaning back against the counter. “But where’s the fun in that?”

I kept an eye on the new hire during his first shift. He walked past the Abyss Zone a couple of times, peeking at the tape like he was trying to decide if it was worth the effort to take a closer look. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head: This is probably nothing… but what if it’s not?

He didn’t see me watching him, and honestly, that was for the best. I wasn’t ready to play mentor. If Eric wanted to scare him straight with stories about portals and demons, fine. Let the kid think it’s all a joke until the gap does its thing again.

Because it would.

I didn’t know when or how, but I knew the Abyss wasn’t gone for good. The scorch mark on the floor still pulsed faintly, like it was waiting for its next chance to open.

For now, though, the park was calm. The trampolines squeaked under bouncing kids, dodgeballs flew through the air, and Mia stood beside me, smiling in a way that made my chest feel a little lighter.

“Ready to head out?” she asked as she finished the last wristband.

“Yeah,” I said, grabbing my stuff. “Let’s get out of here before Eric tries to put me back on demon duty.”

We walked out together, the chaos of Skybound fading behind us. For the first time in weeks, I felt almost normal—like maybe things would be okay.

But as we reached the parking lot, I glanced back at the building.

And for just a second, I thought I saw the faint glow of red light flickering in the Abyss Zone.