“We’ve already seen enough,” Mike whispered, his heart finally slowing down.

The vacuum of the closing rift sucked the air out of the boys' lungs. They tumbled backward, falling through a tunnel of static and synthesized music. Thump.

The boys watched, paralyzed, as the episode played out around them in terrifying three-dimensional reality. They saw Jonathan frantically checking the locks while Nancy stood guard with a poker, her knuckles white. They felt the heat from the heaters rising, the temperature climbing to an unbearable degree.