London Calling

The cracks in reality started to form on a Sunday. It all started when a strange box washed up on shore. Just the appearance called attention to it.

Black and made of steel. Hm? What is that on the lid?

Two fishermen were the first to spot it.

“1974?” the older of the two asked. The men looked at each other. The older man’s face turned ashen.

“Don?” the younger fisherman asked. His mentor grabbed the box and threw it into the water.

“Hey!” the younger man shouted. “What did you do that for?!”

“Forget you ever saw it!” Don shouted.

“What?!” the other fisherman asked. Don shook his head and crossed himself. The younger man was confused. What was that about?

You would think that would be end of that.

But no.

A couple found that box on the beach. They were about twenty-one years old. No knowledge of 1974.

“What is that?” the woman asked. Her boyfriend walked over and picked up the box.

“1974?” he asked. The couple looked at each other. What was in the box? He tried to open it.

“It won’t open,” he complained. The man turned it and found a giant old-style lock on the side. It looked too old to pick.

“What should we do with it?” the girlfriend asked. The man shook his head and shrugged.

The box wound up at the police station. The receptionist barely blinked.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Um… we found this box on the beach,” the young man said. He set the heavy black box on the desk. The receptionist stared at it for a moment.

“Okay,” she said. The receptionist handed him a blank form.

“Fill this out,” she said. The man picked up a pen and got to work. The girlfriend and receptionist didn’t notice a thing. But someone in the police station did.

Let’s just say that box didn’t stay long. One trip to the dumpster should have ended it.

No!

The box kept coming back.

---------

Eight times. That box came back eight times. It wanted to be exposed. Its contents had to be shared. Only old people kept trying to throw the box away. What were they so afraid of? They won’t say a word. But everyone saw the fear in their eyes. All because of the year engraved on the lid.

1974

It was Vince’s turn to see the box. In the early hours of the morning, the doorbell rang. Vince had to drag himself out of bed. He grumbled to himself the whole way.

“What is it?” he asked as he looked through the peep hole. There was no one out there. Vince frowned. What the hell was this? The PI opened the door. No one around. Just that damned box at hist feet.

“What’s this?” Vince asked himself. He picked up the box.

“1974?” Vince asked. He ran his fingers along the numbers. Suddenly, he heard a soft clicking noise.

“Huh?” he asked. Everything around him froze. Vince felt like his head was spinning. Visions filled his eyes. It felt like drums in his ears. Too many images flashed around in his head.

What… What is this?

He could hear a voice in the haze. Not so clearly at first. Vince felt like his head was spinning. He could barely remain standing. The PI couldn’t gather his thoughts together. He swung his hand out to thin air as he staggered backward. Vince thought he was going to faint.

Suddenly, one message cut through the haze.

“You don’t belong here. Wake up!”

The box lay open and abandoned to the side as everything went black.