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1945, Maine

It was summer break again, and the first thing the two Thompson boys did in the summer was dig a hole. They had so much fun, digging around the woods behind their house and seeing what they could find. If they didn’t find anything, they could make a fort out of the whole, or a whole tunnel system underground. Even though the tunnels sometimes collapsed or they hit a huge boulder, they both had a blast. Jim was the oldest of the two; he had curly brown hair and brown eyes.

He always wore the same things everyday. He would wear khaki shorts, a t-shirt, and his sweatshirt that he got for his birthday. He was 12 years old, in fifth grade. Tommy was 8, and he had blonde, straight hair, which was odd since neither Mr. or Mrs. Thompson had blonde hair. The two brothers always got into arguments, but neither of them held a grudge against each other. They weren’t just brothers, they were friends.

Tommy and Jim got off the bus at their usual bus stop, and ran home. School was out, and Summer had started. Tommy and Jim finally had some free time to make their holes. Most of the time they were caught up with sports and instruments, and didn’t have time to have fun. This was their only chance. Tommy ran to the garage and grabbed two shovels. Jim grabbed a wheelbarrow to put the dirt in, and they ran into the woods. They walked past their previous projects, and found a good place to dig.

Tommy looked up at his older brother and said “You ready?” Jim nodded, and stabbed his spade into the soft soil. Immediately, Jim dropped the shovel in pain. “What happened?” asked Tommy. Jim replied, “There’s a rock.” “You sure?” Jim looked at the ground in confusion. “Maybe.” The boys didn’t need to talk much to get their points across. They didn’t have much gossip, as they were only in elementary school. Neither of them really felt the need to make small-talk.

Tommy started digging off the thin layer off ground, and he stared in awe. Jim looked down at the ground and saw what Tommy was so surprised about. It was... a door.

“What the?” whispered Jim.

He reached down, and grabbed the doorknob.

“It’s locked.” Tommy grabbed his shovel, and hit the doorknob as hard as he could.

Nothing happened. Jim tried hitting it instead, and it flung open. A house? Underground? Jim stared into the house, frustrated. He could see a couch, a TV, and a fireplace, none of which seemed to be affected by gravity. There was a nice rug on the floor, and everything about the house seemed normal. Except for the fact that it was underground, of course.

“What’s in there?” asked Tommy.

Jim looked over at him and replied, “It seems like a normal house. Maybe there was a tornado or something.”

“No... there’s a new TV. It couldn’t be that long ago. One sec, let me get a flashlight.” Tommy ran inside, and scrambled in the drawers to find the flashlight.

He ran back outside, but Jim was gone. Tommy scanned the yard to see any sign of him. Nope. He called out his name, but there was no reply. He called again, and he heard a faint noise from their hole. He quickly ran over and jumped down, to see Jim on the floor of the house. He was sitting on the couch, and the gravity didn’t affect him, either.

“Jim!” Jim looked over, smiling a strange smile.

Tommy backed up, scared. Jim’s mouth opened, but his lips didn’t move as he said, “Come on in Tom. Its great in here.” Jim then fell over, face-first, with a knife in his back.

Tommy screamed, and ran out of the hole, terrified. Breathing heavily, he ran back into his house and locked the door. Tommy ran up to his room, still clutching onto his flashlight. After his heart-rate finally slowed down, he started to cry. Was Jim really dead? How did this happen? He had to protect  himself, somehow. He knew his dad hid his gun in the bathroom, so he could get that. He would never know how to use it if he found it, though. He looked at the clock in his room.

It was 5:30, and his parents came home at 6:00. He had to survive till then. The doorbell rang. Tommy didn’t dare to go up and answer the door. Slowly, he tiptoed to his window. He opened the curtains, and he saw a man, dressed in a suit and tie. He had giant, bloodshot eyes, with red pupils. His face was pale white, and he had jet black hair. Suddenly, the man turned his head and looked right at Tommy, with a giant grin on his face. Tommy instantly closed his curtain and ran straight to the bathroom. Where was it? Where was the gun? He opened all the cupboards, tossing things onto the ground.

He turned around and checked in the bathtub, but it wasn’t there. No, no, no! He heard footsteps coming up the stairs: tip, tap, tip tap. Tommy couldn’t think. Tip, tap, tip tap.But then he remembered about the hidden compartment behind the mirror. He pushed on the corner of the mirror, and the compartment opened up. Tip, tap, tip tap. Sure enough, there was the gun. The tapping had stopped. Tommy closed the compartment, and saw the man in the mirror. Huge eyes, giant smile, holding a rusty knife. He screamed and turned around, firing the gun. He dropped the gun from the recoil,  but the man wasn’t there. Trembling, he walked to the door. Knock, knock, knock. Tommy froze.

He backed away from the door. Knock, knock, knock. Tommy had backed up to the cold, marble walls, and he held the gun up in front of him. 5 shots left. Knock, knock knock.

“Tommy? Are you okay? What was that noise?” Tommy breathed a sigh of relief. It was his mom.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine.”

“Well then why did you lock the door? Are you hurt?” Tommy realized he had the gun in his hand. Maybe the man was just a figment of his imagination, like when he saw the man in the mirror. Tommy scrambled to the mirror, and opened the compartment.

“One second, Mom.”  He stuck the gun in the compartment and closed it.

He walked towards the door, and opened it. He screamed at the sight of the man with his giant eyes and giant smile holding a knife in front of him. “NO!” He yelled, and that was his final word as the breath of life was taken out of his lungs, and he slumped to the floor, dead.

Tommy Thompson was found dead in his crying brother Jim’s arms. When Police official Jonathan O’Sullivan asked what the cause of death was, Jim couldn’t give an answer. There were no wounds on the body, and no sort of damage to any organs. Interview of Jim Thompson:




Jim: We were digging holes as we usually do on Summer break, and we found a cool door underground. It had some writing on it, but it was too dark to read it, so Jim went inside to get a flashlight. That’s when things started to be... weird. He came back outside, and I guess he couldn’t see me.

He kept on yelling “Jim! Jim!” and I would reply, but it was if he couldn’t see me. He went into the hole and read shined the flashlight on the words written on the door, and screamed. I don’t know why he was so scared, it was just said “Jon and Mary” in a heart. But... he ran inside and locked himself in his room.

He then ran into the bathroom, and I guess he must’ve found Dad’s gun, ‘cause I could hear a gunshot. I walked up the stairs, and knocked on the door. He thought I was Mom, for some reason, and then he opened the door. He didn’t have the gun or anything, but he looked so scared. His eyes had gotten very big, and he couldn’t stop smiling. That’s when he died.”

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