Displaced

Arthur caught a glimpse of himself, an image reflected off the chrome plated arch. Bloodshot eyes ringed in dark circles. Scraggly beard and drooping hair. Scratched and dented prosthetic. It had been hell trying to understand this device, but if it worked it would be worth every sleepless night.

It had been a month since he'd caught the oddly worded Craigslist ad offering a junked up Space Time Object Replacement Device. The seller wrote in capslock and demanded an ungodly amount of tacos along with one night of dogsitting services in exchange for the contraption which was, quote, "A COMPLETELY HUMAN CREATED DEVICE MADE BY HUMAN FILTH FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION ONLY."

He wasn't sure why he had gone to investigate. Sending objects back to the past wasn't really possible, but it was a distracting notion. Given how the last few months had been, distraction was welcome. After purchasing five trays of Krazy Tacos, he had approached the seller's house.

He couldn't really remember the night of dogsitting. Something about a rampage of squirrels and a truly terrifying monkey, followed by a little red dot and this large blank spot in his mind. The seller in question was a short boy with an unfortunate skin condition and an even more unfortunate sense of fashion. Arthur was pretty sure he spoke in capslock, too.

But the device was real. The seller had demonstrated by hurling a tiny red ball into the device. Somewhere in the past, a little boy chasing a paper boat in the rain found himself chasing, instead, a little red ball—now rolling away from a nearby storm drain. The paper boat flew out of the portal to land in the seller's black-gloved hands.

"If I EVER find that you have used RUBBER PIGGIES on this device, I will find you," the seller threatened. When prodded for more information, the seller only screamed, "FIND YOU!" even louder, until Arthur let it go.

Whatever the creep's reason for getting rid of the device, Arthur wasn't about to let this opportunity pass. If this thing could replace objects in time, then it could replace people. If it could replace people in time, it was only a few creative tweaks away from a blatant time machine.

He could fix things. Fix them so that Lewis wasn't trying to kill him every time he tracked Arthur down.

He'd just tested it, swapping a stray dog he'd lured in with bacon with a street cat from last week. Neither animal suffered ill effects, though the cat was a bear to get ahold of. Next step, going back himself.

Twisting the dial, he watched the date roll back. A day. A week. A month. Two months. Five months. Eight months. Eight months, two weeks, and three days. With his other hand, he typed in the coordinates of the cave.

There was the van parked outside. There was Vivi, leading the way. There was him and Lewis, splitting off to take the higher path.

It would be different because now he knew what would happen. He wouldn't allow his anger and jealousy to open a back door for that demon. He would stand far back from Lewis, waiting behind in the tunnel. Of course, they would question the metal arm, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. It would be worth it to have Lewis back.

As he turned away from the controls a solitary rubber pig flashed into existence deep within the device, replacing a key component. Arthur stepped through the portal.

.....

Lewis raised his torch to inspect the walls, peering at the inscriptions with fascination. "These have got to be thousands of years old," he breathed. "Artie, get pictures. Vivi will be able to research these later. Don't get too close, though. We don't know what they're for."

Behind him, Arthur shivered, snapping a photo of the wall and sliding his phone back into his pocket. "I-I don't think we should be here. This whole place feels... wrong."