Elija

Walnut Creek California, June 26th, 2011;

In a year there are 12 months. In a month There's about 4 weeks and a few days. the number of days we have in a year, as everyone knows, is 365. To most this sounds like you have time to spare, time to enjoy, time to indulge. That’s times’ manipulative trap. 365 is the criminal number that laid the trap, instead, think of this. How many weeks are in a year? The answer is 52. Now most, if not everyone, would wonder what the difference is, and again, I have that answer, but in the form of a question. How often does a week fly by and you discover that you essentially accomplished nothing? Of these 52 weeks in a year, in each of these sets of 7 days, man will waste 25 weeks in total.

Unfortunately, even for someone who is perfectly aware of this trap, it is still impossible to avoid frivolous and tedious tasks. For some its an unwelcome road trip, others a forced family get together, for me, it is the recurring time waste that is going to church.

I’m Elija. I’m the top of my class, taking any and all AP and honors classes. Everything I do, every move I make, I do to further myself and my future, however, every week, without fail, a precious one hour and fifteen minutes are stolen from me. Normally I’m unable to make much use of Sundays due to this and other family activities, but today, I can actually get some productive work done.

I was able to convince my family to let me off at the nearby museum so that I can go on the tour to get some information for my school paper. Without them here of course. I guarantee you they would ask pointless questions and derail the entire tour.

My family had rolled into the parking lot, dropped me off, and I made my way to the quaint red Victorian home turned museum. This building is known as the Shadelands museum, to be honest, I’ve seen this house in passing coming home from church many times. This place was nothing special other than some history about the people that built it, but the building is mostly just a dumping spot for other relics people need to get rid of, or “donate”.

The door is MUCH larger than a normal door, I’d say it’s twice as wide as a normal door, the height looks about the same as a normal door though. I opened it and-

“Hell~o, Hell~o, Hell~~~o!” a man nearly in all white pastor attire energetically exclaims, right in my face. Christ, this guy needs to learn some personal space.

“Yea hi,” I attempt to maneuver around the guy to get some space, “I’m here for a tour.”

“Yeah? Very good, honestly this is such a wonderfully rich building overflowing with character and stories.” God, that cheesy smile sends shivers down my spine, “Unfortunately, tours are on hold right now due to a concern with a certain piece.” Actually, I can hear some of the conversation coming from upstairs. Odd, one of the voices is very familiar, and for some reason, I'm starting to feel very uneasy.

“W~ell, while you wait I can give you a short history lesson, so you aren't just sitting here with nothing to do!”

Well, it’s the whole reason I’m here in the first place so... “Yea, that would be great!”

The man in white situates himself getting ready to educate me, “The year was 1890, where steam engines were the most popular form of travel and cowboys were treated as heroes. A brilliant man by the name of Stephen Steel wanted to demonstrate the strength and willpower of humanity. To do this, the eccentric oil tycoon devised a race for fifty million dollars. Thanks to the backing from the United States government approved by the president of the time, Funny Valentine, the race featured thousands of jockeys including the amazing no-name jockey Pocoloco, who had won the race. The race was no simple undertaking, it was a race across the United States, from San Diego to New York City. It was a race that required discipline and pacing, going long distances without taking breaks could exhaust your horse and leave you stranded, falling behind would be the least of your worries.”

“Many many many many many many many many many many many many many. people died during this race and even the beloved president Funny Valentine was assassinated, not that a body was ever found, but through it all, everyone that had finished the race and lived saw their dreams realized”

Ah, I remember hearing about this on TV actually! It was the Steel Ball Run, a race that, as this man had said, was a race that killed many on the trail, and it was not uncommon for shady dealings to lead to assassinations. One of which was theorised to be the conspiracy behind President Valentine”s death.

“Fortunately for all of us, despite his death, President Valentine was able to complete his holy mission!”

Wait... what? What the hell is this guy on about? Holy mission? Where the hell did that come from? It makes sense that he was Christian, but that's completely out of nowhere.

“As most don’t know our president had an ulterior motive, a just motive, but nonetheless an ulterior motive. Of course, the reason the government even backed the race, to begin with, was to find the Holy Corpse! President Valentine was able to figure out the locations of each corpse part and laid out the race so that racer would unwittingly pick each piece up! What a tragedy that such a marvelously pious man would be cut down!” The man finishes his bizarre tale with fingers pinched dramatically between his eyes and an unlikely somber expression on his scrunched face.

This guy is going on a mad tirade about nonsense. Holy Corpse? does he even know how stupid that sounds,” uh… why would Valentine be looking for a corpse? How can a cadaver be of any value to him?” The conversation above us seems to be escalating too, that one annoying voice is getting louder, and it’s not helping this now stressful, idiotic situation I’ve found myself in.

“But that’s just it! It wouldn’t benefit him whatsoever!”

I...

“It was his plan to benefit the people!”

What…?

“His glorious plan to place the body of Christ in a bunker to bring prosperity to America!!!”

The fuck is this guy on?

Almost as if on cue, I hear a door slam open and immediately came to the horrid realization as to who the unsettling voice upstairs was. “Fucking smartass history motherfucker! That’s family property. It was a man’s dying wish that I get this! It was my grandfather’s dying wish that I get this goddamn it!” That, right in a building that's meant to educate those able to be educated, dressed in a signature green baggy pants, steel-toed boots, fingerless gloves and the signature bright red unzipped jacket that reveals his bare chest, was the redheaded menace, Axel Collins! He’s belligerent, foul-mouthed, and just plain stupid. What the Hell is someone like him even doing here!?

“Do you know how early I got up? Do you know how early I had to go to bed? Nine! Nine O-clock PM is when I went to bed, and then I woke up at god damn seven O-clock, a whole three hours before I should get up on a weekend! I should be sleeping instead of hounding some history nut!”

“Whoa!!! Sir, please forgive my friend. You see he was very affectionate towards his grandfather, and this is something he needs to do in order to get closure.” Him too? Why is Zack…

“Fuck off Savant I…”

In an instant, Zack grabbed Axel by the head and, Christ! slams his head into the wall! “You calming down now Axel? I realize you’re going through a tough time, honestly, I do, but violence shouldn’t be your first course of action. We need to take things calmly and slowly, we can always come back and pick up the map another time. Alright man?”

Axel looks at Zack, completely unfazed by the blunt force that was just applied to his head. “... Your right. Savant, you're a good guy you know that? You’re always looking out for me, and I really appreciate you, man!” He just threw your head into the wall!

“Regardless we're leaving now.” last to come down from the stairs was the grunge enigma herself, Tatiana Therapon. She…

“Wait! Tat, I promise I’ve calmed down and I’ll back off…”

Tatiana completely ignored Axel and looked at the disheveled curator “ We’ll be leaving, and I’m very sorry for my friends outburst, this whole death in the family has been, suffice to say, difficult for him.” The cool collected voice from Tatiana, and the now embarrassed Axel apologizing, was enough to let the curator collect himself.

“Well, so long as you four leave now we won't have any problems”

Four? Wait, is he talking about me? Does he think I’m associated with these people?

“A~h, well I guess that's my cue to leave, but I enjoyed our brief chat. I truly hope you learned something and took something away from it.” Wait, this guy doesn't work here!?

The man who just gave that asinine story started heading out the door along with Tatiana, Axel and Zack. I’m at a complete loss for words. So much happened in a short amount of time. These people, I want absolutely nothing to do with them. I don’t even care why they were here, so long as they aren't anywhere near me, that's fine!

Axel

My name is Axel Collins I’m an eighteen-year-old student finishing my final year in high school. I do well enough to pass, and I’m definitely going to graduate. I’m not a particularly smart person, but what I lack in smarts I have in strength. Most people are intimidated by me, and honestly, the less people that come to bother me the better. I definitely don’t mind looking the part.

The goth guy with the impressive long hair, sleeveless tee and leather pants next to me Is Zack Smith, but he always hated that name and prefers the name Savant, not Savant, Savant. Savant is a seventeen-year-old orphan working at a nearby kennel near our school, it borders the hillside so there isn’t much up there and he’s pretty far from the suburbs where I live. I’m pretty sure he worked a deal with the owner and lives in that kennel too, but he might be getting booted soon, we haven't figured out a plan to help with that yet. No one knows what happened to his family, and Savant is pretty reluctant on letting us in on what happened. People at school seem to associate him with bad omens or something and has been socially ostracized by everyone.

The arrogant well-spoken eighteen-year-old chick in the leggings, short shorts, open theater styled flannel and tee shirt is Tatyana Therapon or Tat for short. hands down, one of the smartest people we know and she knows it. We hardly ever see Tat at school, not because she has a different group of friends she prefers hanging with, but because she hardly comes into school, unless there is a test or if there is a project or presentation due, and on top of that she still, somehow, holds her perfect grades. She studies a lot but she prefers to stay in her room and watch documentaries and other films. She also builds Gundams, but I think that's just to keep her busy.

Last but not least, there’s Rosy… Rossan… uhh, we call him Roo, well I call him Roo since I have a hard time remembering his name, and it kinda just stuck with me and Savant, Tat's the only one that calls him by his real name. Roo is a very devout Catholic and is even aiming to become a priest, of course even the Cathlic church has some issues with Roo’s beliefs in the cowboy conspiracy he likes talking about, he’s very passionate about that. Me and Savant don’t mind him talking about it too much, it’s good for people to speak openly about their passion, Savant will challenge his story sometimes but never outright shut him down. Weirdly enough though Tat it always interested in that particular topic.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! We got completely screwed! I just wanted to look at at fucking picture frame, dipshit assholes!”

Tat tries to chime in, “Axel calm down I…”

“No that jackass was completely out to get me” I’m pissed now the entire reason we came here was to get that map and the pretentious ass history dude went out of his way to make sure I didn’t get it! “I guarantee you, right now, that ass is laughing his ass off at us! Well fuck that, I’m going to go back in and...” Tat holds a manila envelope up to my face before I could storm off, “Wait, is this the envelope we were supposed to get?”

“Yes. While you were having your temper tantrum I took the frame apart and found the envelope” she sounded nonchalant about it, but Tat had a very smug look on her face. “Besides, going back isn’t a good idea anyway. I said I took the frame apart, I never said I put it back together."

The biggest smile just got plastered onto my face. Eat shit history dude! We continued walking towards home and left whatever mess Tat made for those ass’s to clean up.

“S~ooo. What was it that we got? If you don’t mind me asking? I was downstairs for that exchange you all had with that curator?” Roo was curious about what it was we were after, I never told Savant or Roo why we were after this envelope either so now is probably a better time as any.

I took the envelope Tat was able to swipe from the museum and got the small brass key that was hidden inside and held it up to both Roo and Savant. “This is what we came for! Last week my grandpa died, to be honest, I didn’t know him that well. I remember going to visit him and my grandma but I was young and as I got older we visited less, but for some reason, I was left something”

Savant got a little more interested “Like money? Land? Money?”

“No, It’s this small box and mask my grandpa owned from this government job he worked on”

“When my dad was a kid, grandpa took on a job that took him to a spot called “Devil’s Palm” nobody knows what happened there, but grandpa became way more secretive after coming home. This was also how he got the mask, apparently he got it from Devils Palm.”

“I’ve checked out the mask myself and there's nothing really that interesting about it.” Tat chimed in. She was the first person I showed it to. I was wondering if she recognized it from any documentary she’s watched. “It’s just a stone mask, hell there aren't even any markings on it, we can make a mask like it if we took a big rock and just kept breaking it down until it looked more like a mask. It was incredibly smooth too, too smooth to be some artifact though so it was most likely made recently”

Roo gives a confused look, “W~ell, it can’t be that important then right?”

I immediately look right at Roo, “You’d think, but grandpa kept that thing under lock and key day one. Even when we visited he would watch that thing like a hawk. I don’t think I’ve never seen him out of eyeshot of it.”

“What kind of job from the government needs a basic stone mask?” Savant was definitely interested now. “What were they even having him do? Was he acting weird, y’know, beyond the mask thing?”

“Yea, actually he asked a weird question on that first day, it was something burned into my dads' mind, because of how intense it was. He asked if anyone could see it?”

Savant asks genuinely, “See it?”

“Yea! nobody has any clue what “it” was, so when no one gave him an immediate answer he immediately dropped the topic”

“Alright, then how did you get it then? Wouldn’t your gramps have given it to your dad or some other relative?” Savant asked.

“Yea you’d think right? Here’s what happened though, these weren't just stuff given to me in his will and given to me by some schmuck in a suit, they were given to me by my grandpa himself on his deathbed! When I visited him in the hospital last week he had both the mask and box in his hands. Nurses say they couldn't get those away from him when he got admitted, and it was just easier to let him hold it. While we were alone he fell asleep and I was actually able to get the mask away from him! I was really curious about what the big deal with it was, so I put it on my face. Next thing I knew I was in unimaginable pain! It was like, y’know poking through my skin with spikes and, and… what's the best way to describe it?”

Tat explained, “Imagine claws protruding your skull, digging up skin, bone, and flesh as the cold stone makes its way to your brain."

"That's it!" Yea I remember that hurting like a bitch. That was exactly how that went down when I put the mask on.

"U~m, hold on. That was awfully descriptive Tatiana. Why do you know that?"

"Well Rossi,” that’s Roos’ real name,”Axel couldn’t describe it properly and I don't have the patience to piece it together, so I just threw it on myself and yea it tried to eat my face alive as I already said”

Savant gave Tat a look and said, “why the hell would you put something like that on your face?"

"Because damn, I didn't think it would actually dig into my freakin' skull, but holy shit, it did"

"Anyway,” I continued, “after I threw the mask off my face, my grandpa apparently woke up and was looking at me like he had a fire all the sudden lit up in his heart. He normally scolded me for trying to touch the damn thing, but this time he handed the black box he had to me and told me to go to the Shadelands museum and pick up a key he hid away in that map of the Bay Area"

"So you inherited the mask and a mysterious black box from your grandfather on the spot? That box must be incredibly important." Roo seemed to be more interested in the box than the mask.

"Yea, grandpa brought the mask home from his last day at that job and then they moved around constantly."

"That is… actually, significantly less interesting than the face-hugger mask" Savant is starting to lose some interest.

In his soothing tone, Roo answers, "W~ell considering Axel had to get his face, apparently, near ripped off to get that box, I think that it gives that box a more alluring presence to it"

But Savant is still unimpressed, "Unless it's a mimic I'd bet you that box isn't that mysterious. Where's the mask at?"

Tat answers, "I have it right now, and I think the black box is deadly important. Axel, you kinda skimmed over it pretty quickly, but your grandfather brought it home after his last day at work right?"

"Yea."

"That's big!” Tat is starting to show a lot more energy now, “Whatever is in that box has something to do with that government job, and we can learn something amazing from that little black box. Axel your grandfather got involved with something sketchy and he knew it. Axel, how long was your grandfather a part of this group?

“Uh… like a year I think. My dad never got to hear much from that time and he was pretty young, like 7 or so, it’s actually kinda amazing he remembers what he does now.

“A lot can happen in a year Axel.” Tat continued “It’s weird that your grandfather moved himself and his family right after he left it too. There was something seriously up with that job, and the contents of that box has the answers.”

And like that Savant shows interest again, “So are we talking about a conspiracy or something of the sorts? I’m still more interested in the mask, but I’m beginning to agree that it has something to do with that box now. Where is it now, the box?

I answer, “At home, I hid it away so no one finds it. Family doesn't know I have it yet and right now, I want to keep it that way ‘till I know what I have. He gave it to me so I want to do things my way first.”

“Well tell us what you find Axel, ok. I’m deadly interested and I want to learn as much as I can, alright?” I confirmed with Tat that I’ll let her know what I find, and me and Savant went our own way home since we lived closer together.

We walked a good bit in silence until Savant finally said something, “ So what's your plan then? If this is some massive government conspiracy that makes everything you got from your gramps questionable right? He’s expecting you to do something with this stuff.”

I thought about it for a bit, “I’m totally aware how sketchy this all is, but he also trusted me with this. By the way, after he gave me the box and told me where to get the key he smiled at me and for a while he didn’t move. Then the heart sensor went flat. Whatever this is, he looked relieved, like a weight was taken off his shoulders.”

“Fuck,” Savant lit a blunt, "Hey let me in on what's in that box too. I don’t know what's going to happen, but understand that I’m going to have your back alright.”

“Hey if we do go against the government think I get to punch the president?”

“Pretty sure he’d send other people to fight you off, probably postemen for you honestly.”

“They better be ripped fucking postmen then!” We laughed off the stress and talked about music, movies, and games until we got to my house and we parted ways.

It’s been a few hours since I got home with the key. I could have opened the box and seen what's inside it by now, course I haven't yet. We talked about what could be inside the box, well Savant Joked about it, but now that I actually have the opportunity to actually open this thing now it’s pretty intimidating. There's a strong chance this isn’t even for me, right?

I have both the key and locked box in my hand. It was ice cold picking it up but now it's almost as warm as my own body. I’ve just been looking at this thing for a while, not sure how long. I’m scared of what's in here. I can’t imagine what's in here. My right hand that is holding the key in a vice grip finally moved. I need to see what is in here there has to be a reason I got this instead of someone else. It doesn't make sense. I was never close to grandpa I thought. I put the key into the hole. Why didn’t my dad get this or anyone else from the family? I’m also not that smart, so will I even be able to fully understand what is even in this damned box? I turn the key unlocking the box. I have it though. It was given to me. I need to see it, see what's in this box. I need to figure out the mask, grandpas past, the box, and what's in it! I open the box!

“What?” that’s it? No. somethings wrong. The only thing in the box that my grandpa has been protecting for the last thirty or so years was a photograph. It’s a picture of my grandpa holding a book there’s a shelf of books in the background, but that's it. I take the photo out and run my hand through the box. There must be a secret compartment, but I found nothing.

I look back at the picture, there must be more to it. I flip it around and I actually see some writing. It reads Say: Tijuana Brass. “Tijuana Brass?” What does that mean? Does it have something to do with the picture? Is a password to get to where he is? Is it…

I’m looking in the mirror of my room now. The door to my room is closed. The window is latched shut mom is in the front room, if anyone came through there I’d have heard something. There should be no way anyone or anything could get into my room without so much as a sound, yet, right now, I’m looking at my mirror and I see something. A tall lanky metallic creature, it has this metal jaw that you would see a villian use to replace their real jaw, and its entire body almost resembles a steam engine. Its arms were so long, its fingers nearly touched the ground. I don’t know how it got into my room, but it’s here, and looking at the mirror I can clearly see it looking right down at me.