A Hidden World
(Although what beats me is how exactly it stayed hidden for so long)
INTRO: Since I never get around to this in the stories, I'm going to tell you now. All right, the main character's name is…uh…hm. Let me think…I have decided! It will be Jarod! His name is Jarod! And he's…um…what grade should he be in? Fifth! That'll do. His name be Jarod! He be in thy fifth grade! Anyway. The story!
Real Intro: Jarod (er…um…what should I call his last name? Oh, what the heck!) Montres (Monster with a few letters changed around) is…uh…sleeping, in the middle of the night, and, he hears a noise. The end! Oops. Er--the beginning. That's a good idea! Bring on the story! P. S. The story will probably be better written than this. Of course, I could just say that some non-existent friend wrote the intro for me, and that's why it's written badly…hm…come to think of it, that's not a bad idea at all! And the reason that the story will be better written than this is that my friend wrote this intro! So there! (Except for the part that says that my friend wrote the intro. I wrote that. Obviously.)
I heard a noise like a door slamming. Groggily, I sat up and fumbled around with my hand on my beside table until I found my digital clock. I turned it toward me and looked at the light up digits. 12:43. No one should be up at this hour…I felt my pillow rustling, and I turned around.
There was a purplish, gigantic lizard-like monster attached to my wall! My eyes bulged and, moving backwards, I grabbed for something from my bedside table to hit the creature with. I came up with a heavy, thick hardcover book. Perfect. I brought it forward and hit the monster hard on the head. It's purple scales suddenly changed to a brick wall pattern. It's head wagged and a low hiss came from the creature. I hit it again. Now it was leopard spotted.
"What's with this kid?" muttered the creature, grabbing the book from me. It bared its teeth and hissed. I raised an eyebrow.
"Oh," I said in mock surprise (although I was actually shocked). "So now Mr. Scary Monster can talk, eh?" The monster cursed.
"I think we've got a faulty door, here!" it said, turning to my closet.
"You've got some explaining to do," I said, standing up. I leaped past him and shut the door. Then, I turned around. The monster let out a cry of anguish.
"No! Stupid human!" he said, his eyes glaring at me in hatred. He suddenly disappeared.
"All a dream…" I heard a soft voice say. Then, I felt a hard blow on my head. I staggered back, struggling to keep consciousness.
"Stupid Randall!" cursed the monster to himself. "If that kid wakes up in the morning with a bruise, he'll know it wasn't a dream!" I turned around. There was nothing there. I grew afraid. Then I saw my book hovering in midair. I darted at a spot a little bit above and next to the book. There was a loud "Ow!" and the monster reappeared, blue with white stars.
"You know what, I think I like you, kid…" he trailed off, grinning, if you could call it that. "Cunning, clever, right up my alley!" I decided to take that as a compliment.
"So, would you relieve me of my ignorance? What the heck's going on here?" I was brought up not to use dirty words. Hence, "heck." Not the other word.
"All right, I'll tell ya, but keep this a secret! I'm already going to be fired if Ungill finds out…" he added in an undertone. He started talking. After about five minutes, I began to notice some very strange similarities between this and a movie I had watched a while ago…I think you've heard of it. Monsters, Inc. ring any bells?
"Wait a second!" I said. "I think something's odd here…" I snuck Randall downstairs and showed him the case for my Monsters, Inc. movie.
"Notice anything…similar between this and your story?" He snatched the movie away from me, interested.
"So it's true…" He turned to me. "A few monsters created a movie based on a few real life events and released it into the human world just for fun. Let me fill ya in a bit though. The movie isn't entirely accurate. When that freak (cough, cough!) Sullivan discovered that laughs could be used to create power, it was found that they weren't really as powerful as scream…so we kept on scaring, and there was a new boss hired…John Ungill. He's kind of weird…anyway, there are a few minor differences between this" he shook the movie before dropping it back in a drawer "and real life. Other than that, you're pretty up to date."
"All right, then," I said, "What about the movie portraying you as a kind of 'bad guy?'"
"That was…ignorance. I am entirely misunderstood, and if you wanted to understand any of these people, you would do best to completely forget the movie," he snapped, withdrawing into the shadows. I felt a cold breath of air on the back of my neck, and Randall whispered, "Come." I followed him back upstairs and into my room.
"Now, if Fungus has any sense, he'll open the door again…then again, Fungus doesn't have much sense," said Randall, jumping up to the ceiling and hanging down by two legs.
"Show-off!" I muttered. He just hissed. After a few seconds, the door banged open, and a bunch of oddly shaped people in yellow suits along with whom I recognized from the movie as Fungus, Sulley, and Mike appeared. Randall cursed and dropped off of the ceiling in front of me.
"We've got him! We'll decontaminate him just in case, and someone get me a door-shredder!" said a muffled voice from inside one of the yellow suits. A few of the CDA monsters, for obviously that's what they were, ran away busily and some try to march into my room. Randall grabbed the door and slammed it in their faces. He didn't close it all the way, because obviously he wouldn't have been able to get back out. He then grabbed my wrist and leaped through the door, slamming it.
"Follow me!" shouted Randall, starting to sweat. "Fungus, you too! Idiot…" He ran ahead. Apparently he knew his way through the building, because I certainly didn't. Well, this was embarrassing. I was running around Monsters, Inc. in boxers and a t-shirt! Then again, the monsters probably couldn't tell the difference. We were now at the front entrance, with CDA monsters on our tail.
"Now what?" I asked. Randall shook his head.
"Follow me! I've got…a plan!" He ran out of the door and I followed him to the sidewalk. He grabbed the trunk to a car that looked strangely like Mike's.
"Here," I said, kicking the lock on the car as hard as I could. "Good!" Randall climbed through the now-unlocked door and pressed a button. The trunk opened. He grabbed Fungus and me and shoved us in. He slammed the lid, just as a bunch of CDA monsters rushed out of the building, looking around. I felt around the trunk. There was lots of junk in there, but I stopped my probing when I felt something sharp touch my finger.
A few minutes later, the trunk opened. Randall appeared and said, "The coast is clear. Let's go." I hopped out of the trunk and I followed him to a waiting taxi. He hopped in and I followed him.
"Fungus, go back to work and pretend you don't know what's going on!" snarled Randall. He whispered something to the driver of the cab, and he nodded quickly and nervously kept his eyes pointing straight forward. At least I think it was a he.
It was a big, red creature about the size of Sulley with yellow fangs covering its entire chin. It had a round, currently white face that would color slightly when the creature moved or talked. It was black when Randall whispered to it. It had three arms on each side and it had no fur. It had no ears, but three eyes. One was in the back of its head, but that was closed. It had claws that would begin to come out when he squeezed on the steering wheel.
"No, you idiot!" said Randall as the driver turned down a street. "Do you know anything? Gimme that!" He reached over and yanked the steering wheel away from the driver, making the car jerk and swerve off of the road. We knocked over a mailbox before Randall got control and brought us back to the road. He made a 360* (can't figure out how to make the degrees sign) right on the road, hitting another car which honked loudly. He drove around and eventually we found ourselves on a very dangerous road.
The road was winding around and around, with dips and drops, and it was actually lifted up into the air on beams. If you made a wrong turn, you would fall off. Furthermore, if two cars traveled alongside each other, they would have to be almost touching to fit. Far below, there was a sea or lake or something with strange creatures swimming around. There were security monsters pacing around the streets with weapons at the ready. Once, we passed one and he stepped into the middle of the road, holding up his hand.
Randall stopped the car and the guy walked up to the window. "Pretend you're driving!" hissed Randall. He sat back in his seat. The driver of the taxi opened up the window and looked fearfully at the security monster.
"Anyone beyond this point needs identification," said the monster, sounding bored, as if he did this every day, all day. "Oh, hello Randall," he continued, completely without interest. "What's going on? Who is this?"
"This" he gestured at the driver, "Is my taxi driver. My car happens to be broken down, as you will have noticed by now. It's been three weeks. Do you really need identification?"
"Not from you," he said, "but from your driver, yes. I need to see his driver's license, proof that this car is his, and some kind of picture ID." The driver fumbled around in his brown leather bag and then looked up, confused.
"Looking for something?" grinned Randall, holding up a driver's license, a passport with a picture, and a registry note or something that had the number and model of the car in his hand like cards. "Thought we might be needing these." He handed them to the security monster.
"Gregory Davis," muttered the monster, scrutinizing the papers carefully.
"That's me," said the driver nervously as the security monster handed his stuff back.
"You're clear. Anyone in the back?" He tried to lean in and look, but I ducked down.
"No," said Randall. "Why? Do I ever have anyone in the back?"
"Just checking!" was the answer. "Can't be too careful these days…" he sighed. He stepped back and took a pad and pen out of his pocket and jotted something down rapidly.
Randall drove the rest of the way, switching seats with the driver so as to be less awkward. Along the road, there were closed tunnels that led down into the water. Randall drove off of the road into one.
There was a dim red light inside and the floor was a little wet, as I could see through the window. There was water slowly dripping down off of the roof. It grew colder as we went farther down, and I shivered, rubbing my goose bump-covered arms. Eventually the light brightened, and I could see what looked like a huge garage door in front of us. Randall stopped the car and told me to come out. As I stepped out of the car, the monster closed his eyes tightly.
Randall walked up to the garage door and pressed some buttons on a keypad. There was a roar, and the door went up through the ceiling. There was another, normal-sized door there, and Randall opened it and gestured for me to go in. I heard the roar of a car driving away.
The room we entered was painted purple, and Randall blended right in. Not that he couldn't blend into any surroundings. There was some furniture and a table. There were three doors leading out of the room. Randall opened one, and told me to wait down in the basement while he thought of a way to disguise me.
"Costume!" I said. "Remember? Sulley's little friend wore a costume?"
"Good idea…" whispered Randall conspiratorially. "Let's make you something fierce." I nodded and told Randall to give me a piece of paper and a pen. I drew the monster I wanted to be. Then I showed it to Randall. It was this whole complicated diagram. He snatched it from my hand, making a crinkling sound, and inspected it. It looked like this:
A heavy-set monster with an orange-and-red pattern of thick, warm fur. It was supposed to be a bit bigger than Sulley, but obviously the paper wasn't that big. You know what I mean! Anyway. It had two short horns sticking up from the top of its head, and it had those weird-shaped eyes that goblins have. Like Green Goblin, if you've ever seen the movie Spider-man (or the comic books or something). The eyes were navy blue. There were some nasty-looking retractable claws on the hands. I supposed I could make those with curved knives that were inside the glove, and then curl my fingers around them and push forward. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, don't worry.
Anyway, I thought the best part was the feet. They had wheels sticking ever so slightly out of the bottom of the feet so that you couldn't see them, but if I wanted to, or had to, get away fast, I could just skate away. There was also a thing that I could pull that would inflate airbag kinds of things on the bottom of the feet so I could float on the water. Or I guess I could use them as snowshoes. No parachutes, though. That would be cool. Or maybe I could fill the airbags with hot air so I could float…I'm probably the most creative person I know.
I couldn't figure out how to make half of this stuff work. I supposed that if the lifejackets that filled by themselves when you pull something, then my costume could. Then, of course, there was the problem that I had absolutely no idea where I could get all of this stuff. I'd leave the complicated stuff to Randall.
Speaking of Randall…"Two questions," said Randall, glaring at me. "One, how do you propose we get all of these materials, and two, how are we supposed to put this thing together even if we can get the stuff?" My shoulders slumped. Those were the exact things I had been wondering.
"Ah…ha! Yeah, um, actually I was thinking that you would take care of that stuff?" I said hopefully.
Randall rose what I guess you could call an eyebrow without hair. He ripped the paper in half and said, "You were, were you?" I nodded. "Well then! I guess I will. Although we might have to ditch some of the unneeded luxuries that you've added. Retractable claws, airbags, wheels…" he muttered to himself. I started to say something indignant, but Randall interrupted.
"Just kidding," he grinned. "I'll figure something out. Until then," he added, his face suddenly becoming serious, "We have to get you back into your world! What time is it?" he said, cursing. He looked at his watch. "6:15 p.m., that's…er…7:15 a.m. your time," he muttered.
"Come on!" He said, looking up at me. He looked around and muttered, "This'll do" before grabbing an old coat and tossing it to me. "Put this on, and hunch down as much as you can. Don't make eye contact with anybody. On second thought…" he said, his eyes filling with wonder, "I've got an idea…"
"No! I've got a better one!" I said. "You go to your factory, Monsters, Inc., and I wait here! You get my door, bring it back, I scream so it'll be activated by Scream, and I jump through! You close the door, and we're done."
"That was my idea. Only problem is, it'll take too long. Well, it's the best thing I can some up with. I'll keep the door in my house so I can talk to you whenever I need to. See ya!" He pulled on a coat, which was funny, since I never saw him wearing one in the movie, and ran out the door. He called out his cell phone number before running outside. He started running ahead. I paced around the room, waiting anxiously.
About thirty minutes later, Randall came through the door, holding my closet door in his hands. I recognized the cab driver, sitting in his car with his eyes closed tightly.
"How'd it go?" I asked him. He dropped the door on the ground and I was afraid it might break. It didn't, obviously.
"Beautiful," he said sourly. "I had to get into a locked room where they were keeping the door until they could find 'the kid;' that's you. There was a door-shredder next to it that they would use after sending you back, and I had to threaten the driver again so he didn't look back and see the door. He thinks I'm a terrorist, and that I'm smuggling illegal weapons to wherever I smuggle them to. I told him that if anyone finds out about me, I'd kill him, even if it wasn't his fault. He's terrified out of his wits." Randall grinned evilly and leaned back for a second, enjoying his moment of glory.
"But how the heck did you get the door out without being seen?" I asked, confused.
"Ah, one of the trick of the trade, my…friend," said Randall. He paused before the word "friend". I supposed he didn't have many, if any, others. He paused for a second before shaking his head.
"Now, to work!" he said. "Before you go, let's say, instead of me barging blindly into your room if there's someone in there, I'll knock like this:" Knock, knock-knock knock knock, knock: Knock knock! "And if the coast is clear," Randall continued, "You'll open the door, and if not, you'll ignore it. Sound good?"
"Fine," I said. I then opened my mouth and screamed as loud as I could.
"Stop!" cried Randall as his lights brightened, then exploded. A lamp fell off of the table. Randall groaned and slumped onto the ground. "Look at this…" he said, picking up a broken piece of glass from a light bulb.
"Be more careful next time, you dope!" he suddenly shouted, remembering that he had a short temper. "You're going to ruin my house, and everything in it!" I looked over at the door, which was lying on the floor. When I had screamed, the light on top had lit up brightly, and I was afraid it would break. But it didn't, and it was now glowing steadily.
I walked over to the door and stepped on it. It swung open into the floor. I hopped through, landing on my back and becoming nauseous at the quick change of gravity. Actually, it was kind of fun. I looked back into my closet. I could see Randall peering out, although to him, he was peering down. Randall leaned closer, reached out, and the door shut. I opened it experimentally, remembering that Boo had done so in the movie. I looked into my closet, and saw, well, my closet! I obviously wasn't disappointed, because I knew that Randall wouldn't be there. I walked back to my bed and lay down. I had missed a few hours of sleep, and was planning to get them back. Luckily, my parents hadn't known anything.
TO BE CONTINUED…