The trapdoor had presumably been there since the house was built, hidden beneath the basement. If I hadn’t been replacing the carpet, I would have never found it. It was perfectly flush with the cement floor, a small latch set to help it open. There were no markers on it, nothing to identify what the small square hole in the floor was for.
I expected the door not to open, or to be locked but it took barely any effort to lift it up. Beneath it was wooden stairs descending into an maw of blackness. What was down there? My heart raced in my chest, and I swallowed with difficulty. I had to know, I couldn’t leave this unknown room sitting below me as I went about my day to day in the house.
My first step onto the stairs startled me with its loud groan. I stopped breathing for a moment, expecting something to come flying up the stairs towards me. My hands were shaking trying to shine my flashlight, causing shadows to dart back and forth. The trapdoor was too small for me to see anything beyond the stairs from where I was. I would have to completely commit, go entirely into the room to find out what was down there. A big breath settled my hands, and I took the next creaking step.
The room smelled of old metal. Dust motes lazily drifted in front of my light, disturbed from their long slumber. My foot left the last stair and found smooth dirt. My left hand trailed on the wall to keep myself steady, the cool cement comforting. I lifted my phone in my right hand, using the flashlight to cut through the gloom to see a ratty white cloth draped over a large shapeless object. The object dominated the room, which was rather small, maybe ten feet by ten feet. A large wire ran from beneath the cloth, into the far wall.
I reached out, pulling the cloth off the object. More dust swirled around me, obscuring my vision. I coughed and waved away the particles. The odor of old metal got stronger. My light creeped up across a metal contraption, looking rusted and decrepit. It was freestanding in the center of the room.
It looked like a metal door frame without a door. That was the simplest way to describe it. A series of switches and buttons adorned one side, with the other side a mess of wires that tapered to the single large wire running into the far wall. What was the door for? I crept closer, fascination overtaking my fear. I walked through the empty door frame, and circled the device. Nothing happened.
The switches and buttons used to have writing on them, but they had been long worn away. A quiet hum filled my ears as I got closer, coming from the machine. There was three switches and three buttons on the control panel, each in a corresponding vertical line. Tentatively I reached out and flicked the top switch. The hum got louder and the top button began to glow red. I pressed it, and nothing happened. Thinking it must be switches first, then buttons, I flicked the next two switches in quick succession.
All three buttons were lit up. The hum was loud now, filling the room with its growing pitch. For a second, I considered walking away. I didn’t know what pressing the buttons would do, I didn’t know what this door would do, where and how it would open. I could turn around, leave the room, seal the entrance and put it from my mind. I could’ve done that. I could’ve left my life the same, unchanged but for a small itch of “what could’ve been” in the back of my head.
Instead, I hit the buttons, top to bottom, in quick succession.
The hum died, the red light of the buttons faded to darkness. Then my phone flashlight went out. I was thrown into near darkness, my eyes struggling to adjust. Only the open door cast light into the room. Silence reigned and I held my breath in anticipation and disappointment. Had I ruined it? It was broken now. I should have taken my time, waited for help, found someone who could figure out what the doorway was for. My impatience had ruined whatever discovery this was, and apparently my phone as well. I flicked the switches and hit the buttons in ways, different timings. I couldn’t get it to turn on again. I turned to leave.
As I reached the foot of the stairs, I saw my shadow on the wall. It was in front of me, at my height, not below me like it should have been. I looked over my shoulder at the contraption. A pale blue-white light filled the metal doorway. The hum hit my ears a second later, louder and higher pitched than before.
I walked back to the metal door, entranced by the light. This was a thing of fiction, a door to another reality, another plane or another time. How old was this? What mind had created this, then hidden it away? Why? What was its purpose?
A part of me thought back to my defeated thoughts a few moments prior, and realized that it would be better to go find someone else to study this. But the rest of me wanted the adventure, to climb through and discover for myself what was on the other side. I was almost touching the door now, the blue-white light pulsed gently before me. I raised my hand and reached out.
As my hand touched the light, it was pushed away by someone coming through the doorway. I was knocked the floor heavily.
“You haven’t gone through the door yet right?” The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t make out any details in the dark and shadows. “If this is my timeline, then you haven’t. The first time I tried, it was just set to receive so I couldn’t go through.”
I was pulled to my feet by the other person and in the soft light I was startled to see myself. My clothes were more ragged, and my beard heavy, but it was me. I worked my mouth, but no sound came out.
“I know, I know, it’s weird. Trust me, there’s rules about this, but we can’t go over them all now. Just trust me when I say you can’t go through this door. It opens up way too many problems. All the cans of worms.” The other me walked to the control panel and threw the bottom two switches and hit the middle button. “Ok, once I’m through here, just cut the cords and walk away. Trust me, or yourself, however you want to say it.”
“Ok,” I managed to push out. I wouldn’t go through. I would seal the room and pretend it never existed.
The other me flickered out of sight for a moment, then reappeared where was before. In that instant, my mind was set on fire. Every thought was agony and my heart felt like it was being pulled from my chest. I dropped to the ground in pain, as the other me did as well. Even in the faint light I could see the horror on his face.
“Timelines,” he gasped. “Of course as soon as I convince you not to go, then you don’t go, and I cease to exist, giving you no reason to stay here. How come I couldn’t remember this from when I went through it? Is it a safety measure, protecting myself from this?” He looked to me for help. I had none to give.
“Then you have to go. This device is a curse and a wonder.” He pulled a small notebook from his pocket. “These are instructions that I was given to help operate it. I… must’ve given them to myself when I first went through. Where did they come from then? God I hate timelines.” He rubbed his temples.
“Do I have to go?” I whispered.
“Obviously, or I wouldn’t be here,” he snapped. “That gives you some serious plot armour to survive till you get to where I am. After this point for me, I have no idea. Just remember a few things. One, towels are really the most useful thing to bring. Two, there aren’t any time ripples so don’t worry about butterflies and shit. Three, I wish I had stayed here…” He trailed off in thought. “But in fairness, the places on the other side of the door is pretty incredible. You don’t know it yet, but we’re going to save the universe.
“I just wish I could’ve saved her. I wanted to keep you from that pain. From watching her die and being helpless. Apparently I can’t though…” The other me blinked tears from his eyes. “Alright bye. Good luck, though apparently I don’t need it, since I got to this point. Immutable streams of time and all that.” He stepped through the door, blinking out of existence.
I looked down at the book in my hands. It was worn and grimy and smelled of faint rot. It was time for an adventure.
Little Words, Big Dreams 