The Box (part 5)
After walking for ten more minutes, Principal Bearhair’s wrist had stopped hurting. At first he was concerned that he had gone numb or gone into shock, but it legitimately felt better. He examined it by the light of the lantern and moved it around, moved his fingers around, and there was no more pain. He figured it had just been a bad sprain that had stung at first and healed up.
But as he examined it by the light of the burning wick, something looked strange on the skin of his wrist. He looked closely and held the light closer just to be sure. The joint was still swollen, but something beneath the skin was moving around. It looked like some living thing writhing around beneath the surface.
It didn’t hurt, but he could certainly now feel the movement. It was the size of a worm, moving around just beneath his skin. As he watched, the skin of his wrist began to tear open. It stung like getting a shot, but it wasn’t as bad as the fall had been. Something dark seemed to be poking its way out through his skin. He watched in horror as a snakelike tip made its way out of his wrist.
But it wasn’t an animal. As it emerged further, Principal Hairbear could see that it was closer to a plant, like a vine. It made its way out until it was about five inches out of his skin. Then it just kind of remained there, like a plant from the soil.
In terror, Mr. Bearhair put the lantern down quickly with his other hand and grabbed the vinelike plant to yank it out of his arm. But as soon as he tugged on it, he yelped in pain. It felt like pulling out his own hair, if the hair was attached to his bones. Whatever the thing was, it was tougher than a normal plant so he couldn’t just rip it off without immense pain.
And whatever it was, it seemed to have healed his sprained wrist in ten minutes. Things in The Dimension were certainly different.
The vine wasn’t moving now, it just sat there emerging from his wrist like a normal plant, bedded in his skin.
He picked the lantern up again and continued on. “Timmy?” he yelled.
“Help me!” came the response from further up ahead.
“I’m coming, Timmy!” Mr. Bearhair yelled back. He hurried up his pace and nearly fell off the edge. His foot stepped off into space and he was able to catch himself and stagger backwards just in time.
Just before him, the ground dropped straight down into blackness. Everything in the dimension seemed to be formed in perfect 90 degree corners, and this was no exception. The wall continued along, but the ground went straight down. He looked to his left and couldn’t see an end to the edge. It dropped straight down as far as he could see. And Mr. Hairbear couldn’t see how far down the drop was. It descended into utter blackness.
“Timmy! Are you down there?” he yelled into the abyss.
“Hello?” came the response from the pit. “Is someone there?” The voice still sounded far away, deep in the void.
Mr. Hairbear started walking along the edge of the pit to see where that would lead him. He had to get down into the pit.
Back in Crumb Hill, the police were taking another look at the black cube in front of the school. Now that two people had gone missing, they wanted to find some clues.
Officer Gurt approached the cube and the first thing he noticed was a small black object in the hole made by the dynamite. He bent down and looked closer and saw that it was a pen sticking out of the dirt. Without touching it, Officer Gurt examined it closely and saw that there were two letter engraved into the clip of the pen: PB.
“Principal Bearhair,” he muttered just to himself.
He looked around the hole and the cube and didn’t see anything else that would be notable or helpful since the last time. Officer Gurt picked up the pen out of the dirt and went into the school, to the office. He approached the secretary and held up the pen.
“Excuse me, does this pen look familiar to you?”
“Oh yes!” exclaimed the elderly lady. “That is Principal Hairbear’s pen! Have you found him?”
“Unfortunately not, ma’am,” replied Gurt. “I just picked it up outside the cube out front. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he was examining the cube himself.”
“That would be interesting,” replied the secretary, “but he always kept it in his inside jacket pocket. I don’t know how it would have fallen out unless he took his jacket off, or was bent over or crawling around! I can’t picture a dignified man like Principal Bearhair doing that!”
Officer Gurt took a few notes in his pad and thanked her for her time.
The students at Crumb Hill Elementary School had gotten accustomed to the cube by this point and disregarded the rope meant to keep them away from it. It had become a regular hangout for many of them. Some sat up on the top and let their legs dangle down the side, while others sat on the grass and leaned against it.
On the fourth day after its appearance, a handful of students were doing just that: leaning against it, sitting on it, running around it playing tag. One by one, their parents came to pick them up, or students walked themselves home for dinner, until there were just two left: Little Bailee Nuckles and Hildegard Bildagard, who went by Hilly.
Bailee was leaning against the wall of the cube while Hilly paced back and forth in front of her in the grass. They talked about school, homework, boys, food, and everything else while the sun went down beyond the school building. Hilly was saying something about the various boys who had crushes on her while looking at a spot in the grass. When she had finished her statement, Bailee said nothing.
“Well??” she said, looking up from the grass. Then she screamed.
Bailee wasn’t there, only her shoes were, with her feet still in them.
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Day 63 of 100 Days of Blog
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