Dexter’s Laboratory Porn Story: Dimensional Terror Chapter 2
This is part two of a ten-part story, which is designed to publish a new chapter every month, leading up to November 2001 when the new “Dexter’s Laboratory” episodes finally premiere. The intent is to keep DL fans (and myself) interested in the show while we wait out the unending torment we must suffer until November.
Things get even weirder here, but this chapter is pretty lack-lustre, if I may say so myself. Nonetheless it is vital to the story so read on and anticipate Chapter 3 (which will be considerably longer, and I guarantee it will be QUITE interesting). If you have any suggestions or criticism whatsoever on this story, then by all means write me a review. I’m very open and always eager to improve my works.
24.03.2001: I’ve revised and rewritten parts of this chapter, and even added another scene. Tell me what you think.
“Dexter’s Laboratory” is Y 1996 Hanna-Barbera Productions and Cartoon Network.
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“Dee Dee, get out of my laboratory!” howled Dexter, throwing down his spanner. Storming towards his older sister’s gargantuan form, he began waving his arms in hopes of chasing her off. “How many times do I have to tell you before you will leave?”
Enormous blue eyes looked skyward, lost deep in what could only loosely be termed thought. “Umm way too many?”
“You got that right,” he wistfully agreed. “Now leave, woman! I have no time for you today!”
She blinked obliviously.
He shoved against her gangly legs with all of his strength, but she would not be moved. “Please,” he begged. “Away you go now!” She only turned, annoyed, and glared at her tiny brother far below her.
“What is your problem, Dexter?” she demanded. “I’m just walking through your silly- Oh, what’s that?” Plodding to a large workstation, she picked up a remote control and observed, “I’ve never seen this before!”
With a weary sigh, Dexter shuffled over to where his sibling loomed. He just barely reached her knees, which were more like white-knit tree stumps to him, but vainly tried to assert some authority over her nonetheless. “Please, Dee Dee?” Stupid girl! Is there no peace for the boy genius?
A goofy grin adorning her face, she leaned down towards him. “I wanna see what it does.” As if in slow motion she clicked the round button on top of the remote.
“Activating,” sang Computer, and the sound of generators warming up could be heard.
“What’s it doing, Dexter?” She turned her smiling head to Computer’s screen and gave it an empty gaze.
Why must she always mess with my creations? Whatever did I ever do to her? “Look, Dee Dee, it is not yet completed. If you don’t give me that remote or turn it off, something may crash up!”
“Okay.” She looked downcast. “But,” she warned, smiling again, “you’ll have to get it from me first!” Her shrill whinnying of laughter echoed throughout the laboratory as it mocked him once more.
“No, Dee Dee, no!” She dangled the remote in front of him and he leaped up to retrieve it, but he was far too short.
She repeated her giggle. “You can’t get it, Dexter! You’re too short!” After antagonising him for a few moments longer, she tossed the control to the floor and traipsed away, spinning and bounding through the air and singing to herself.
“Stupid sister,” he bemoaned, scooping the remote up and frantically pushing buttons on its front. “Come on, come on, please turn off!”
“Deactivating interdimensional tracker,” Computer proclaimed.
Dexter wiped his brow. “That’s a relief.” He scrambled to his feet and started to replace all the things throughout the lab that Dee Dee had dislodged. “My idiotic sibling causes me so much grief and torment. I can’t imagine what that overbearing jerk Mandark could possibly see in her!” When everything looked to be back in order, he returned to the half-assembled device he had been working on.
“What are you doing, Dexter?” asked Computer.
Dexter turned his head smugly, producing another wrench. “It’s an interdimensional tracker,” he explained, opening a compartment on a large cylindrical mechanism. “Mr. Luvinsky was telling us about the fourth dimension in class today, and- well, I think I figured out how I can improve my time machine.” Thisll show Mandark whos really the greatest boy genius of them all. The nerve of him, thinking he can actually change the fact that I will always conquer him, no matter how far into the future he goes!
“How do you intend to accomplish that?”
“The tracker can pinpoint objects wherever they are in time or space, and lock in on them.” He chortled. “Much better than that jumping around I did the other week!” And I can use it as proof to Mandark that once again I was right and he was wrong.
Computer made no response.
“What? Don’t you think it’ll work?” he demanded and ceased his labour.
The screen flickered before answering. “I do not know, Dexter. There are many factors you may not be accounting for.”
Beginning to wrench again, he snorted, “Fear not, my dear. I believe I have everything under control.”
That Computer could doubt his genius even for one second- it was too much! He had already proven his ultimate superiority, especially over that obnoxious scum Mandark. The future had been placed before him, and showed him to be victorious. Mandark is such an ignorant fool to think that the path of destiny could ever be altered! Just because I’m better than him
The spanner fell from his hands once more.
“Computer!” he screeched.
She came back to life. “Yes, Dexter?”
“If I hadn’t called you just now do you think you would have still answered me? I mean-” He searched for a way to express the thought that had just struck him. “In the path of time, would you always be answering me at that moment, whether I called on you or not?”
“That is not the way I am programmed.”
He sighed. “I’m just meaning hypothetically.”
There was a pause. “I do not know the answer to that, Dexter.”
“But if” He scrunched up his face, trying to think. “What I’m trying to say, is that if the path of the future is already set, then any decision that I make will not affect what happens in my life, so even if I don’t worry about doing the great things that I know I shall do, they will still get done and-“
“What are you talking about, Dexter?” interrupted Computer.
He picked the spanner back up and set to work. “Oh, forget it. Time travel hurts my brain.”
Mandark crashed to the floor on the other side of the hoop, knocking his thick black glasses from his face. His body, still aching from the battering he had received earlier that afternoon, almost refused to let him stand up. Whilst squinting furiously he groped around for his glasses. “This doesn’t look like the fourth dimension,” he grunted. His hands fell across the plastic rims and he brought them to his eyes.
The laboratory, demented and twisted already from its reconstruction after Dee Dee razed it months before, was now downright surreal. The corners of machines were not the termination of their planes; other sides, sides the eye would never see from such an angle, jumped at him vicariously and spread their segments out like a peacock fanning its tail. Faint trails of something he could not quite make out snaked through the columns like the condensation trails of jets.
He brought himself to his feet- an act that took great effort, for the very air he breathed seemed to retain him and made movement a very slow, delicate process. Wading forward a few steps through the dense gaseous atmosphere, he turned to face the ring he had fallen through. Hanging in the fog were frames of his actions as he had fallen, each a glimpse as he had flailed through the air; thick facsimiles forever suspended. “What?”
Squinting harder at the cubist structures surrounding him, he could make out some other shapes- various yellows and reds and blues, done up in softer and cheerier forms than the current state of his laboratory. These figures were far more translucent than the multi-faceted ones he saw, but were present nonetheless. My old lab! He stretched his arm to brush against one of the erstwhile consoles and- though he could feel the frigid steel against his skin- his hand passed right through the apparition. He shrieked and pulled his hand back; a blurry stream of images of his hand still remained.
Instead of the subtle whistling of processors that always filled the atrium, there came a throaty wail that flooded the abstract scenery, seemingly the only aspect of reality not fully distorted by time. The sounds of his own breathing came hours after he exhaled and was more of a crystallisation within the hazy vapours. And yet he could detect no unusual gases, even with his vast knowledge of all things scientific… He fought through the unending visages of himself and inspected the lasting impressions of things in the laboratory long gone.
Aside from his own trails that coated the floors, spectres of Olga were also highly prevalent, captured in various stages of dance and abuse. He could pick out at least five recent vignettes of her throttling and bashing him without mercy. But another figure, almost as faded as the holograms of his first laboratory at this home, seized his attention. Glorious blonde pigtails cascading around her, the likeness of Dee Dee was frozen in the midst of a twirl. The only time that goddess had ever entered his lab, she had destroyed it. But oh, how he loved her! He stopped in front of the ribbon of her images and gazed upon her in due reverence. The way she glowed with beauty and glory, and how she captured his darkened heart, shed the only light in life that he could find He bowed his head and basked for a pensive moment.
Wait a minute He sprinted to a quadrant of the laboratory that was relatively devoid of his impressions. Squinting real hard, he could distinguish three fuzzy strings of himself extending in front of him. He took a step down one of the paths of himself; that path became sharper, while the other two faded. Retracing his steps, he headed down the second trail. Now that one thickened and the other two began to dissipate. Can it be?
He darted to the centre of the empty field. “I am going to walk straight in front of me for five paces, then turn in a circle,” he announced. Several images of him strung together spawned from the epicentre of where he stood, the most tangible of them being one doing exactly what he had stated he would do. He followed that one, his strides matching perfectly with the spectres.
Time is permeable.
If the conclusions he had made from the experiment were true, then the different paths he could take in his life were limited, but there were alternate paths nonetheless. So he had been mostly correct; to some extent he could change the direction of the future as he saw fit. But those secondary ones did they lead to alternate realities, perhaps; would they show him all the things that could be? Surely with his brilliance he could unlock countless secrets of time travel and predicting the course of the future and-
It is of no consequence. I’ve already proved the Dorkster wrong, to some degree, about predestination; now I can go back to the third dimension. He strolled back towards the interdimensional portal, admiring the chaotic art forms his lab had been transformed into. The way he could see all sides of an object, and the lingering auras of things no longer there.
One of his robots rolled past him, the repetitive string of images before it more clearly defined than the branch of trails in front of Mandark. Probably because it’s already on a set course, calculated by its internal mechanisms, with little possibility for deviation- “Hey, wait! Come back here!” he exclaimed, chasing after it. Why, the nerve of it, not bowing to me when it passed! I’ve set them all to do that-
He halted. Maybe it can’t see me. He existed solely in the fourth dimension now; he could see all the dimensions below him, but they could not see ones higher than their level. It’s almost like being a ghost
And then he was struck with most a delightfully wicked idea.
The scratchy cassette tape bleated out chintzy piano music that washed over her dinky room and sank deep within her skin, but still she could not keep the beat. Something was irritating her from deep within and breaking her concentration. She studied herself in the mirror that covered one wall; her cylindrical body, chubby head, rounded feet; those awful black bangs and pigtails
“Damn it!” she screeched, and kicked the rickety table on which the tape deck sat. The deck slid off the table, dangling over the edge for a few seconds before the cord yanked out of the wall and it smashed onto the tile floor, sending the tape spinning to the other side of the room. “What’s wrong with me?”
She squared her shoulders and huffed at her reflection. Raising her arms above her head, she fell into first position, then gradually extended one leg in front of her. She swung it behind her and leaned forward. Hold it, hold it Her knee began to quiver beneath her. Steady Wobbling extensively, her ankle gave way, and she bounded back to both feet just short of crashing most shamefully to the floor.
It’s because of my goddamn brother. Demanding her attention from her desk along the opposite wall was the previous night’s homework, forever scarred in red indelible ink with a big, fat B. He was supposed to be the science superstar, supposed to know everything there was to know. Was that ever a joke! That moron couldn’t even get a date with that idiotic girl in their dance class! Well. She and Dee Dee got along okay; could even be considered friends at times. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t dumber than a brick.
Dee Dee’s brother, on the other hand
She beat her head against the mirror to banish the thought. That midget with the retarded phony accent was good for only one thing, and that was making her brother look bad. And the only thing Mandark was good for was as a personal slave and punching bag. She balled her hand into a fist at the mere thought, and with another glance at the paper on her desktop. As a matter of fact, I feel like using him as one right now. She lumbered towards her door after savouring the thought of all the inscrutable pain she would cause him and stalked out into the corridor.
The sounds of the attic fan ripped through the upstairs hallway. Squeak, squeak went the boards under her feet. This place sucks. I want to go back to Russia. Glancing at the grimy window at the other end of the hall, she could see that the rain had started again in big fat drops that were slicing their way through the heavy October mist. Great, I’ll be stuck inside tomorrow, too. The only plus to that were more opportunities to torment her brother. She continued towards his bedroom.
A sudden chill came to her; made her shiver. She stopped and looked around. Cheap drafty house. But then it came again, and glimmers of- something, the flashes were to brief to make anything out of them- danced around her, swirling in a cacophony of transparent colours, choking her, drowning her. Memories jabbed into her head, and raw sentiments coursed through her every vein, all vying to burst free.
“Oh, shit!” she shrieked- and once more, all was serene. Nothing moved, nothing sounded, and the hallway felt stuffy once more. Good thing Mom and Dad aren’t home yet. I don’t need another lecture on my language.
Her hand at last came to rest on the brass doorknob to her sibling’s bedroom, and she barreled inside. Some papers on his desk fluttered from the act of opening the door, but otherwise the room was lifeless and devoid of her human punching bag. She called “Mandark?” and inched towards his closet.
The frigid breeze came again.
“Mandark? I know you’re in here!” At least, she hoped he was. For once she might actually be grateful for his company.
But no answer came, and promptly the hallucinations swirled around her once more. They flooded through the bedroom, random images and colour spectrums dancing in a relentless procession across her face. Infinite voices shuffled themselves inside her brain and sang out taunting phrases, wordless cries that drew out anger and pain from her soul and screamed a blackness from within her, yearning to explode.
For a moment she was blinded with rage and felt nothing but scalding hatred tear its way through her veins. The chaos began to ebb, though, and she staggered to the door. “Get out, get out!” she sobbed, not certain whether she was saying it to herself or to the demons in her own head.
She crumbled into the deep-pile carpet of the hallway. Oh, how good it felt! Scratching at the yarn-like loops she struggled to pull herself away from Mandark’s bedroom. The void in her mind subsided, and the world stabilized slowly; wordless thoughts were once more her own. Thank God, she gasped, and paused to catch her breath.
Gradually she stumbled back to her room and wrapped herself up in her bedcovers, far too shaken to attempt more ballet.
“Let’s see,” he said to himself, strutting around his room as repeated images of himself laid out before him like a royal red carpet, “what great scientific breakthroughs have I achieved today? I successfully entered the fourth dimension, I discovered that though there is a predetermined course of action for the future, it is not unpliable, and- oh, yes-” he grinned at the wave of trembling Olgas who flowed through the room and out the door, and the pervasive feeling of fear that hung like sweat on his skin as it slowly dissipated throughout the dimension of time. “I found substantial evidence that ‘ghosts’ are actually glimpses into the energy residue of the time-space continuum. A wall that is quite easy for me to permeate, as necessary. What a great scare!” He rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Let’s see the Dorkster try to top that.”
It was true art, the way he could weaken the dimensional barriers just enough for Olga to see his suffering, hear his cries, feel his pain and torment that was left over from every time she had beaten him! Images weren’t the only things that persisted in the fourth dimension. Near the visages of Dee Dee he could sense immense joy turn to abject terror as she began to ransack his first laboratory. The thrill of completing another invention, the disappointment of yet another failure, agony in Olga’s clutches, tranquility at the thought of Dee Dee, but most prominent of all was one of the newer sentiments- pure depression and misery that veiled his rudimentary time machine, his desk, his bed
But no more. It’s not true, it’s not true! I don’t have to become that gluttonous hack! Now, though, he wished he could ask those possible future selves what made them into what they were. He needed to know what decisions to avoid and what ones to make. That one version of me was pretty cool, though. He wouldn’t mind being president of his own company and wearing classy suits every day. It would have been nice to get a chance to visit with himselves before having to face that ignorant Dexter.
I really can’t see the future here. It’s gratifying to know that it’s not already set, but I wish I could see what possible things could happen Looking at the ribbons of images before him, it was impossible to tell which were the past and which were the possible futures. And were there possible pasts he could retrace, and alter that which had already been done?
It was all too much for even his superior intellect to comprehend! Perhaps it was time he returned to the world where time was only a passing bird who refused to glance back at wither he came, eternally migrating with no thought of where he might be headed or when he might leave.
“But I don’t want to!”
There was too much fun to be had here! Oh, the possibilities! The look on Olga’s face as she fled had confirmed his success as a poltergeist. He could terrorise Dexter this way, watch his love undetected- maybe even sway her to his liking, if he arranged things just right. I’ve got to get to their house right now! He flew down the staircase and towards the front door, images of himself spiraling in all directions as he went.
“That Dexter was a big meanie, wasnt he, Darby?”
“Oh, yes!” replied the falsetto. Hes just a stupid mean little brother!
The girl clutching the plastic fashion doll grinned wickedly. He should learn to share his inventions, shouldnt he?
The doll bobbed its head as she pushed on it with one finger. Everyone should have fun in Dexters lab.
Dont worry, Darby. Well teach Dexter to share in a little bit. She flopped onto her back, blonde pigtails clinging to either side of her head, and studied the pale pink walls of her room. A poster of the Pony Puff Princess looked down at her with a comforting smile; sitting on the dresser beneath it was a framed photograph of herself with two of her closest friends. Hi, Lee Lee. Hi, Mee Mee, she called to them softly, wishing they could come over. An infinite amount of stuffed animals spilled from one corner, and from another came the smell of rotting roses and decaying daisies, which were heaped most unceremoniously underneath a tiny photograph from her most recent dance recital.
Letting Darby fall from her clutches, she bounded back up to her feet and pranced over to the corner. No need to glance at the tags on the bouquets; they all read the same. For Dee Dee, my eternal muse and inspiration. Love, Mandark, she recited as she wrinkled her nose in disgust. That icky friend of her brothers- or whatever he was- was constantly following her around with an armful of flowers and candy and season passes to the ballet. It was as though he had a crush on her something! Yuk! Still, she didnt mind all the attention, and he was cute in a little puppy-dog sort of way. He even let me dance in his lab once! Mean old Dexter yells at me whenever I try to do that in his stupid lab. Once she even remembered playing in Dexters time machine, and Dexter and Mandark were fighting over who got to press some big green button, and Dexter was mad at her for some reason because he wanted to push it, but Mandark was nice and let her push the button. Boys are so silly!
She looked at the picture taped to the wall of herself and Mandarks sister Olga from their last dance recital. They were both in some big robots their brothers had made because they both wanted to have the solo. Why cant Dexter and Mandark get along like Olga and I do? They were nice and shared the solo, and then they went to the mall afterwards, and they got some milkshakes at the food court, and there was a big showcase going on and this man had some big machine thing and it had lots of buttons on it, and flashing lights, and buttons and buttons and
I wanna press some buttons! Come on, Darby, lets go play in Dexters lab! She snatched the doll by the arm as she fled from her room and down the hall towards her brothers door. No one was in his messy bedroom. Mom needs to make him clean this place up! she announced. The bookshelf was raised up, revealing the blue grids of his laboratory.
Dexter? she whispered into the empty space. Dexter, are you in here? She slowly placed one ballet slipper onto the tile floor. No alarms sounded, no lights flashed, and her brother didnt come flying out of nowhere to yell at her. Dexter?
Receiving no answer, she made her way through the arches and towering structures of the chamber, till she stood once more before the big project Dexter had been working on earlier that afternoon. It was so shiny and pretty, and looked so complicated and easy to break!
Dee Dee, you know that you are not supposed to be inside Dexters laboratory, Computer beeped, coming to life.
Leave me alone! I dont bother you about coming into Dexters lab, do I?
Were Computer human, she undoubtedly would have sighed. That is not the point, Dee Dee. Please do not touch the interdimensional tracker. It is not yet finished.
But Dee Dee was not listening; her gaze was fixated on a large knob on the new machines face. Hey, whats that?
I will not tell you that, Dee Dee. Please exit the laboratory.
If you wont tell me, she threatened, giving Computer the sweetest smile she could muster, Ill have to figure it out for myself. Come on, Darby, don’t you want to find out?
Afraid to watch, Computer self-activated her sleep mode and tried to block out the squealing and crashing and banging as her system gradually shut down.
“Olga! Astro! Davaitye po-uzhinayem!” came a muffled cry.
She pulled the covers from her head and looked around. “Just a minute, Mom.” I see she’s on another of her Russian kicks. Eating dinner and sticking to tradition were among the least of her concerns, though. Her brother was nowhere to be found, and in his place was some hideous- presence.
It felt like it had nearly made her burst, but still she wanted to find out what that force had been. The word ghosts came to mind but she quickly shoved it aside. Now that she’d had time to think more rationally about what had happened to her- whilst hiding under my covers like a freaking coward, she though sourly- the more likely it seemed that the presence was a result of some twisted experiment her idiot brother had botched. The pleasure she’d get from pummeling him for such an ignorant mistake was well worth risking the possibility that the presence might still be there.
Nothing made itself known in the hallway, so she continued through is room and into the laboratory. Aside from one rattling piece of equipment, everything was silent. “Mandark?” When no answer came, she headed towards the loud machine.
The structure had a broad base, and a ring was affixed to the top, steps in the base leading up to the hoop. A control console was set to one side of the stairs. Through the ring, things seemed very- melted was the only way she could think to describe it. The backdrop of the laboratory wavered around as though it were being reflected by a turbulent pool of water and all the dimensions on it were set wrong At certain points in its oscillations, she could see transparent visions of her brother.
Stupid brother. Poor, stupid Man-dork.
She approached the panel of buttons and knobs and levers. This’ll teach him. She spun one of the dials labeled “Triggers” around and pushed on a lever to shift it from “Present” to “Alternate”. A large button with the word “Random” printed on it also looked particularly inviting.
“Just one more thing,” she decided, and flicked another switch. Quite satisfied with herself, she returned to her room.
He continued his arduous trek down the street, the weight of the fourth dimension making every step a treacherous trial. “Almost there” he grunted. Soon, Dexter would be repaid for all the wrongs he had done Mandark in the past.
He let the trail of his own images be his guide towards the house. They appeared to project his subconscious actions before him to better determine which path in the near future he intended to take. Sometimes, the trail even seemed to know he would do something before it occurred to him to do it.
The images before him looked to falter and stumble. “Huh?” he started to ask, but then tripped over the curb. “That’s not funny,” he grumbled standing up and brushing himself off. A trickle of blood ran down his knee and he wiped it away with one finger. He looked back up to follow the trail once more, but saw that it was nowhere in sight. “And what is the meaning-“
His cry was cut off as he felt his skin melting and stretching every which way. Colours swirled around him and he dripped through them and contorted, weaving through his own bones.
The scream he tried to emit was suspended a million light years away.
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Now that wasn’t too painful, was it? I guarantee you that Chapter Three, Heavens and Hells, will be very VERY interesting, particularly if you’re a Mandark/DeeDee-shipper, and will have its fair share of…. strangeness. *evil grins* Much thanks to Honoria and Maggie. You may be the only people who read my fics, but at least I know I’m not totally alone in my Mandarkness. ^_^; For you other people who might read this, write a stinkin’ review already! I care not how scathing it is, as long as it tells me HOW I can improve.
The Mandarkers Society
/mandark