Secret Passageway
You've just moved. In your new home, you find an odd crack in the wall. As you explore further you, you find it's a secret passageway - and you have no idea where it leads. You decide to grab a flashlight and go exploring. (800 words max)
As he clambered through what was left of his bedroom wall, Owen looked on in disbelief as he considered what lay before him. “talk about lack of structural integrity” he muttered as he recalled forgetting to have that crack looked at. Lying ahead was what seemed to be a disused tunnel for which he’d had no knowledge of before. It was cold and dank, with a consistent flow of water dropping from the ceiling. “Who the hells been illuminating my tunnel I didn’t know existed!” exclaimed Owen, as he noticed the set of dim lights along the floor and off into the distance. Owen decided that it was time to take a walk further as he moved away from his bedroom and down the tunnel. In a spirit of adventure he strode onwards, wondering just how far down the tunnel would go. “Jules Verne, eat your heart out!” he chuckled as he scurried along in the faint light.
Owen had walked for what seemed an age, rounding corner after corner, and while not completely sure, the feeling of making a descent was with him. Eventually the he arrived at a section of the tunnel which split off into three further tunnels, each with a large wooden door blocking the path. Owen studied each of the doors and noticed on each there was a bronze engraved plaque containing some text. The inscriptions were brief and simple; your past, your present, your future.
“For heavens sake! I know I’m at a crossroads, but not this, please!” Owen commiserated, having hoped for some hidden treasure or at least an airloom or two. The thought of the three doors and choosing to open one scared Owen witless. Owen didn’t have time for all this touchy, feely reflection nonsense. “You get on and you get things done” he considered, “the past is gone and the future is just daft dreams if you ask me”. “All we have is now” he vocalised as he impulsively pushed at the door with “Your Present” inscribed on it. To his frustration the door refused to open and he let out a yelp of pain as he recoiled from the kick he’d then given the door. “For Christ sake! it’s my present, let me in the sodding door!” he shouted, his voice echoing along the tunnel walls.
Much to his annoyance he found the same result at his attempt on the Future door, minus the kicking and the pain this time which he’d learned was a bad idea. His attentions now turned, with some hesitation and anxiety, to the door marked “Your Past”. Door or no door, this was a place that Owen wasn’t overly keen on visiting, and he secretly hoped that it too would be locked. Of course the opposite was true, and as he swung open the door he heard himself scowling “Fan-Bloody-Tastic!”
Set out in front of him was a wondrous scene, one which was the complete opposite of what he might have expected. As his pupils widened, he realised that he was walking into a vast space, a banqueting room of sorts, complete with long table in the centre, chairs surrounding it and place mats for each. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights which enveloped the room, showing the granduer and detail of the place. Owen hadn’t noticed at first, but as he gazed around the vast hall, he noticed that each wall was covered head to foot with images, like an endless patchwork quilt of pictures. At first he was blinded to the images as there were just so many to take in, but on closer inspection Owen felt a creeping realisation. “Hang on, I know what’s going on here” he exhaled, as he took in the thousands of images documenting his life.
An avalanche of memories crashed over him as he studied the images, moving around the room with ever increasing pace and uncertainty. Thoughts raced through his head as he tried to make some sense of what was happening “Why am I here? What is this for? I don’t understand!” In all the excitement of his arrival in the room, Owen hadn’t really paid any attention to anything other than his life story on the walls. As he turned to face the table he could make out a dark and shadowy figure sat at it’s head calmly. “Who are you and what do you want from me?”Owen pleaded, wonder suddenly turning to fear. The figure slowly raised his head, simply responding with one firm instruction, SIT DOWN….