Jonah was sitting on his bed, looking into space, thinking about the old radio he had found in his grandfather’s attic. It had a large dial in the center and knobs that made a crackling sound when it was turned, and it was a heavy and dusty machine. During the summers when he was a child, his grandfather, who died the following year, used to listen to it for hours while sitting in his office.
Feeling curious, Jonah tried twisting the dial, and static quickly filled the room. He began moving it slowly, trying to find a specific signal.
Suddenly, he thought he heard something.
First, there was nothing but sound. Then, right at the edge of gibberish, Jonah began turning the volume up.
“Jonah, can you hear me?”
He gasped in confusion. He was paralyzed. His grandfather’s voice echoed and reverberated within his ears.
“No way,” he muttered. “This must be an old broadcast or a recording.”
But no, the voice went on and spoke further.
“Listen. This is going to have to be the last thing I tell you.”
Jonah could feel himself sweating. The voice sounded old and majestic, so he couldn’t help but ask, “Grandpa?”
The voice was deep and rich: “You found the radio.” A moment of silence followed. “Does that mean you’re ready?”
“Ready for what?” was the million dollar question. His heart was racing.
Jonah, you’re going to have to hurry to the box under the floorboards in his office. But you have to open it before midnight.
Then, silence.
Jonah anxiously got out of his chair and raced to the stairs. His parents had been seated in front of the TV, completely unaware of everything. He stealthily walked without being noticed and headed straight to his grandfather’s old study.
He heard multiple creaks from the floorboards while kneeling down. Around the desk, there was at least one loose floorboard. He searched and found a piece that had some wiggle to it, so he decided to yank it off the floor. To his surprise, there was a metal box within the floorboard.
As he tried to open it, he was met with some difficulty due to his shaking fingers.
Within the box was a brass key and a leather bound journal.
Jonah’s eyes widened when he saw the town map underneath the journal. It was not just a journal, but it was a lot more than that. There were notable X’s on places around the town.
A note written by his grandfather was at the end, and it read:
“The past isn’t what they told us. The truth is hiding. Find the one who lies behind the door. Midnight.”
Jonah’s first instinct kicked in and he dashed out of the room back upstairs and secured the key to his nightstand. The radio could no longer be made useful to him since the voice was absent once more.
“What do you mean?” he gasped. “What on earth is his grandfather trying to tell him?”
Jonah found words on the map that were out of focus: “Clocktower. Basement.”
His wristwatch displayed twenty-three minutes past eleven.
After some hesitation, he grabbed a flashlight, put on a jacket, and crept through the door.
He needed to investigate for himself. The weathered and dilapidated town’s clock tower was within his sight, then after a moment, its clock shifted to midnight.
As he approached the base of the tower, Jonah could feel the brass key shaking in his palm as he located a corroded lock. He placed the key in and twisted it.
The staircase that led downwards into the lightless abyss had been concealed by a groaning door that creaked open.
After taking a big breath, Jonah recalled how his grandfather had left his mystery to solve.
With him remembering that, Jonah stepped into the darkness and the door that let him inside sealed itself behind him.
