 |
| Box Gobblers |
The cardboard box remained still. Now the only sound in the oppressive blackness was the desperate thudding of Jacob's heart. There had been a cold quiet that had snapped at his nerves more than the burning ache in his arms when he had struggled against it. A terrible reminder of his weakness, the moist warmth seeping through his jeans, caused panic to clutch at his throat.
He made an attempt to raise himself again, but was greeted with uncompromising opposition. His corpse was crammed in between what seemed to be many invisible things in a packed box. Claustrophobia forced air out of his lungs, causing his eyesight to become fuzzy. The sound of his stifled whimper was muffled by the cardboard walls.
Abruptly, a faint scraping sound emanated from somewhere close to his feet. The noise intensified, joined by a steady pounding sound as well as eager digging. He could only imagine horrible things in the oppressive darkness. Was he attempting to be buried alive?
Next came a voice. It was a high-pitched, chittering sound that sent shivers down his spine, rather than a human voice. It was moist and slimy, very next to his ear. Filling the space with one word, repeated repeatedly: "Hungry. Hungry."
Jacob let out a cry that reverberated throughout the small room—a cry of desperation. He flailed his body, clawing at the hard cardboard with his fingernails as he tried to find a breathing hole. However, his efforts were in vain. The speaker grew agitated as the scratching and beating became more intense.
Something warm and soft was brushing across his leg. Once more, panic swept through him. Was that a mouth? Gums? Squeezing his eyes tight, he prepared himself for what would surely hurt. However, nothing took place. Rather, the damp feeling persisted, requiring a cautious investigation.
And then his palm felt a jagged sting. A sharp, burning pain startled him. A weird sensation, warm and tingling from the point of touch, invaded his body just as he was ready to scream again. It was nearly enjoyable.
His arms ached, but the agony subsided and was replaced with a faint throb. The tingling became stronger and encompassed his whole body. A peculiar calmness eventually replaced his dread as he felt a wave of lethargy sweep over him.
The schittering and scraping ceased. He felt as though the darkness was closing in on him, but it didn't seem oppressive this time. Something warm and fuzzy felt like a weight settling on his chest. He was exhausted and fell asleep, with the sound of the refrigerator lulling him to sleep in the distance.
Under normal conditions, he would have screamed upon seeing what he saw when he woke up. From the shadows, dozens of beady black eyes looked back at him. But the anxiety had vanished, and in its place was an odd feeling of connectedness. Whatever the animals were, they were now friends rather than foes.
Their black fur was smooth, and their whiskers were long and twitchy. They were little, hardly larger than kittens. With quiet and deft motions, they scampered about the box. But the look in their eyes was disconcerting; they were perceptive, almost cold.
One of them climbed onto his chest and pushed its head up to his cheek, a little larger than the others. The tingling feeling came again, more intense than before. It seemed like a sharing of ideas and feelings as much as a transmission of information.
He saw brief visions of the same critters, scuttling and chattering, in a damp, gloomy location. famished. Fear. Next, there was a brilliant light and a food scent.
Knowledge emerged. They felt his dread and used it as fuel because they were hungry. However, something had altered. The feeding frenzy at the beginning had faded to a weird acceptance.
The feeling subsided. With a hint of hesitation at first, then increasing confidence, Jacob extended his hand. The animal did not recoil. Its head was pushed into his hand in an oddly comfortable, even loving way.
In the next few hours, an odd symbiosis developed. As a result of his anxiety, Jacob had the ability to control a primitive energy surge that the monsters fed on. They gave him a peculiar sensation of security in exchange, a warmth that drove away the remnants of his childhood pain.
Jacob realized he couldn't remain as the first rays of light began to show through the cracks in the box. In order to identify these animals and determine their origin, he had to escape. Above all, he needed to escape being caught. He was at a loss as to what had happened, and he was not going to make many friends rambling about talking monsters while covered in scratches.
He reached up and gently poked at the folds of cardboard. It was very simple to open them. Blinking in the early morning light, he came out of the box. The monsters stayed inside, observing him closely with their dark eyes.
He looked at him. The alley was empty, the only hint of the previous evening's activities being the slight odor of buttered cigarettes and stale bread. With a peculiar mix of terror and just-discovered affection roiling in his gut, he turned to face the box once more. Taking them home was similarly out of the question, even though he knew he couldn't leave them here.
The stillness was suddenly broken by a wheezing cough. Around the bend came a stooped person wheeling a rusted cart full of cardboard boxes. Mr. Henderson was the elderly guy who lived above the chip store and devoted his days to searching the city's trash for hidden gems.
Jacob felt his heart race. Everyone believed Mr. Henderson to be harmless, despite his eccentricities. He was unable to explain the animals to him, but maybe he could take advantage of the elderly man's collecting habit.
Calling out, "Morning, Mr. Henderson," Jacob forced a grin.
The elderly guy narrowed his gaze at him, distrust shining in his rheumy eyes. "You're not supposed to be here, boy. This is not the place for dignified people."
Jacob answered, "Just heading out," pointing to the box. "To be honest, I was wondering if this would be of interest to you. It appears to include a few... intriguing items."
It aroused Mr. Henderson's curiosity. He moved in closer, taking a look inside the box. The animals did not try to hide because they did not see any danger. In the dawn light, their beady eyes shone brightly.
With a gasp, Henderson staggered backward. "Wow! "What are those things?"
Jacob attempted to seem indifferent as he shrugged. "I dunno. I discovered these inside the box. I assumed you could know of someone who is interested in collecting unusual pets."
The elderly man's eyes flitted from Jacob to the box. In his eyes, a flare of hunger ignited. "Unusual companions, huh? Definitely worth a look. Okay, young man. I'll accept it.
Jack felt a wave of relief. A wordless understanding developed between them as he assisted Mr. Henderson in loading the package onto his cart. Mr. Henderson would not inquire, and Jacob would be able to see the animals from a safe distance.
Jacob returned covertly to the chip store alley later that day. The box was gone, but Mr. Henderson was nowhere to be seen. He felt a twinge of disappointment, which was soon followed by anxiety. Now, where were they? Were they under good care, or were they confined to a musty cellar?
There was a little black stain on the wall that he thought the trolley had left behind. Though it was hardly perceptible, it existed. An indication, a clue. His chest blazed with hope. These animals possessed intelligence and resourcefulness. He sensed they would be difficult to contain.
Jacob settled into the chip shop alley routine over the course of the following several days. He thoroughly examined the walls, seeking further smudges or indications of the critters' passing. In an attempt to please his new friends, he even started tossing food leftovers close to the chip shop's rear door.
He was sitting huddled in the alley one night when he felt the tingling warmth of home. His heart sprang into his throat as he glanced up. One of the monsters was there, perched on the chip store fire escape, its black eyes glowing in the moonlight. It looked at him for a considerable amount of time before mumbling one word.
"Thank you."
The feeling became stronger, a surge of appreciation sweeping across him. It was more than simply words; it was an emotion and a bond that went beyond words. Then the thing disappeared once again into the darkness.
Warmth emanated from Jacob's smile, which was unrelated to the borrowed coat he was wearing. He was no longer by himself. His link with unknown beings was his secret. And he realized that this was only the start, with a conviction that took him by surprise. The journey was far from over.