“Slow down, Eric! It’s not like it’s going to up and disappear on you!” Mason cried after me as I sprinted ahead of my two friends. “I don’t care, I need to see it!” I shouted back over my shoulder, earning a few curious looks my way from some locals as I sprinted past them. The sights and the sounds of the bustling Liverpool streets surrounded me, ones which would have enraptured anyone else who had been there for the first time. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t there for any of it.
You see, I’ve been obsessed with the idea of time slips since I first heard about them about five or six years ago. I’m someone who’s wanted to visit the past ever since I watched Back to the Future for the first time as a child. In a way, I felt more connected to and comfortable to it than my own time, spending countless hours in the gloomy corners of my local library, a book opened and showing the photos of times long since passed. In particular, the 1950s and 60s. Looking at the black and white photographs of the old cars, people dressed in elegant clothing striding along the sidewalks. That’s why, when I first learned about time slips, it became a fixation of mine. One which, in hindsight, almost led me to my death.
But I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.
The one location of such incidents occuring I ended up focusing on was Bold Street in Liverpool, England. For decades, there have been accounts of people temporarily winding up back in the 50s and 60s who were simply shopping or, in the case of one guy, running from the police. So, I gathered two of my friends who had an interest in both time travel and the supernatural, Mason and Dylan, and together the three of us spent years planning a trip from the States to England. Finally, in the summer of 2022, with most of the pandemic restrictions winding down, we purchased our tickets and flew to London Heathrow, then made the four hour drive to Liverpool the next day.
We checked into the Adelphi Hotel, which would be our home for the next few days. Bold Street was only a five minute walk from it, and I eagerly strode ahead of my friends, who ran to catch up with me. I practically sprinted up Slater Street to where it intersected with our final destination, and I stopped, bending down to catch my breath. When I stood up, I looked around, and almost felt a sense of disappointment wash over me like a wave.
Now, I didn’t exactly expect to step right onto the street and get shot back in time seventy years or so, but, in my mind, I’d expected, no, more hoped that it would still look even remotely as it did in the historical photographs. But, reality is often disappointing. The old buildings were still here, but the modern stores occupying the lower halves almost felt like some careless child had taken two different toys and slapped them together. Directly in front of me, right next to each other, stood a Subway, a vape shop, and some restaurant called Mamos. Looking to the left, I realized it continued down into a pedestrian’s only section, barred off with bollards. And, to the right, I could see the looming shape of St. Luke’s church at the far end. I hung my head, almost dejectedly so as I heard the footsteps of my friends approaching behind me. “Who do you think you are, Usain Bolt?” Dylan joked, breathing slightly heavy as he slapped me on the back. He looked around. “Huh. Cool place” Mason nodded, standing on the other side of me and looking around. “Yeah” he said, “Lots of cool shops”
Then he noticed my expression. “What’s wrong, Eric?” he asked. I just swept my hands toward the sight before us. Dylan let out a grunt of understanding, and patted me on the shoulder. Mason nudged me. “Hey, let’s find ourselves someplace to have a drink. That’ll cheer you up” And with that, he led the way onto and up the street. After a minute’s walk, he guided us towards a strikingly blue building; the gold letters adorning the area over a rather beautiful stained glass window declaring it as the Swan Inn. Mason had us sit behind a table, and after disappearing for a few minutes, came back with three pints of beer. “Here, drink up!” he proclaimed, sitting down himself. As I began to pull at the cold and admittedly refreshing alcohol, he tapped the table between us and spoke.
“Look, you can’t get down in the dumps just because we didn’t immediately stumble across it. I know you want to find it; hell, Dyl and me want to just as much as you!” He tapped his watch. “We’ve got five days to try and find the slip. That’s enough time to turn over, if we have to, every last cobblestone in the road” As he finished, I noticed a rather portly man over his shoulder looking at us from a nearby table. He looked to be in his mid forties, with a rasp of stubble on his chin and his hairline beginning to recede. After a moment, he stood up and began to walk over. “Heads up, we’ve got company” I warned my friends, who turned look at our approaching visitor. “What’s he want?” Dylan whispered, but the man spoke before I could answer.
“You’re Americans, aren’t ya, lads?” he asked us, his voice carrying the thick Scouse dialect which gave him away as a local. We nodded at him. “Well, then, welcome to Liverpool!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands back and almost spilling his mug. “Mind if I have a seat? He asked, gesturing to an empty table beside us. “Knock yourself out, man” Mason said, his tone a bit suspicious at the sudden intrusion. The man shook his head. “Oh, come now, lads, no need to be snide or anything” he said, dropping himself into the neighboring table’s chair. He leaned forward. “How’re you liking it so far?” he asked. We all shrugged. “We’ve only been here about two hours so far” I said, “Not enough time to find out” The man raised his eyebrows and spoke more candidly, seemingly throwing out formalities. “The reason I came over was, I couldn’t help but hear you mention looking for a slip” He leaned even farther forward. “You’re not talking about the time slip, are you?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but Dylan cut me off. “Look, mister. Why we’re here is our private matter. I don’t mean to be rude, but, I’d prefer it if we didn’t speak about such things” He sat up a little straighter; as the oldest of our group, he always felt the need to keep watch and protect Mason and I. A weird expression crossed the man’s face, one I couldn’t place, and he stood back up. He looked down at us with a stern expression. “Well, let me just give you lads some advice. Pack it up, and go back home. It’s not something you want to find” As he turned away, he let out a final call. “Take my advice!” I stared after him as he went. That was a bit weird. “Forget about him, dude” Mason said, turning back to me. “Guys probably just sick of people coming here trying to find it, so he made up some horror movie like warning to scare people off” And with that, all discussion about it was dropped for the moment, finishing our drinks before retiring back to our hotel for the night.
The next three days passed uneventfully. We scoured Bold Street from one end to the other with no luck. My enthusiasm began to deflate like a child’s beach ball left out in the sun too long as the days went on at the lack of results. Soon enough, the second to last day came. I walked, shoulders slumped in between my friends as we walked back towards the church, when I felt someone slam into me from behind. The three of us nearly went sprawling onto the pavement as someone wearing a hoodie crashed through us. “Hey, watch where you’re going, douchebag!” Dylan shouted. As he helped me to my feet, I spied something a little too familiar in the guy’s hand. No freaking way. I shoved my hands into my pants pockets.
My wallet was no longer there. I jerked my head up and pointed. “Hey, that jackass just swiped my wallet!” As soon as the words had left my lips, the hooded figure turned and began sprinting up the street, the three of us giving chase. “Get back here, asshole!” I yelled, while at the same time, Mason shouted “Somebody stop him, he’s got my friend’s wallet!” Passerby turned to look, and a few tried to reach out and grab him, but he managed to dodge their outstretched hands. I began to feel the wind being drained out of me; I may not be terribly out of shape, but neither am I in the best physical condition either. As we got closer to the intersection with the church towering over it, the figure suddenly cut left and ducked into an alley. Keeping pace, we followed as fast as our feet would allow.
As we rounded the corner, we skidded to a halt. “What…the…fuck?” Mason panted out in between huge gasps of air. The alleyway was completely empty. It dead ended down at a graffiti covered roll up delivery door, without appearing to have any quick ways to exit. Where the hell did he go? I thought as I bent almost in half for a second, trying to breath in as much air as I could. “Come on” Dylan heaved, and, still trying to almost consume the air, staggered towards the end. As we got our wind back, we followed. We tried all of the three or four doors leading off into buildings from the alley, but all of them appeared to be solidly locked. The same went for the roll up door. “Could he have gone up there?” Mason asked weakly, pointing to what looked like a balcony above with black fencing separating it from us. “In less than two seconds?” I heaved back at him. “Not a freaking chance” Dylan nodded in agreement with me. “Eric’s right; there’s no way he could’ve disappeared that quickly. We must’ve just thought we saw him come down here”
Turning to me, he put his hand on my shoulder. “Come on, let’s just get back to the hotel and contact the police. Hopefully they’ll help you find the guy” I sighed heavily, still feeling slightly out of breath. So much for a great fucking end to our trip, I thought. Didn’t find the slip, and on top of that, I get my wallet stolen. Slowly, we began to walk back to the street, our heads still slightly hunched as we fought to get our breathing normal again. “You know guys?” Mason said, “If anything, this shows we really fucking need to get in better shape again!” This ended up causing first Dylan, then myself and finally Mason to all start laughing; we stopped as we felt winded again from it. “You’re not fucking kidding, bro” I said, striding a little ahead of them, “If I can’t catch some punk in a hoodie, then we’re all in re-“ I was cut off as the loud beep of a car horn caused us all to jump. I jerked my head up to see we’d almost walked directly into the middle of the street, and almost straight into the path of a passing car. A classic car, at that! I let out a low whistle as it passed by. “Now that’s nice” I said, turning to watch it continue down the street.
I stopped dead in my tracks, staring down the street after the classic car. Though I really wasn’t watching it anymore; my eyes began to dart around in their sockets like they were silver balls bouncing off the flippers of a pinball machine. I felt my heartbeat, which had just begun to slow down to normal, begin to pound hard and fast in my chest again. My breath hitched in my chest as well, and for a moment, I lost all ability to speak. My mouth turned as dry as cotton, and my mind began to race with a million and one thoughts. I closed my eyes tightly as I heard Mason and Dylan continuing to speak and joke behind me. They hadn’t gotten to the corner, hadn’t seen what I had yet. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I managed to let out a small squeak.“Uh….guys?” The two of them appeared beside me, looking at me. “Yeah, what is it?” Mason asked, and in response, I pointed down the street. They both turned to look. I saw Dylan’s face turn pale as his jaw dropped open, and Mason’s eyes grow about as wide as saucers. “Holy shit” he finally breathed out.
All three of us were staring down Bold Street, back towards the intersection with Slater Street. But this was not the same one that we had dashed down a minute ago. The modern cars were gone; in their place were parked older cars and vans, ones that I vaguely could recall the makes and models of. The shops had changed as well. Gone were the bright, out of place stores that seemed to pervert the old buildings; there were now different shops lining both sides of the street, ones for records and old school suits and dresses and one which had a display of vintage purses in the front window. But what drew my eye, was the people. Gone were the people dressed in hoodies, sweatpants, miniskirts, and other modern articles of clothing. Men passed by us wearing long coats and hats, the shiny black glint of their dress shoes reflecting in the sun. Women walked by, some holding the arms of their children; they were clothed in dresses with high heels on, and some wore fur wraps around their shoulders. A few of them looked at us with odd, puzzled expressions on their faces as they walked by.
After soaking it in for a minute, I turned to the others. “No…fucking…way…” Dylan said in barely a whisper. I looked around again for a moment, soaking it all in, before a smile began to cross my face. It morphed into a wide grin, and I began to chuckle. “Yes, freakin’ way” I said, shaking my head gently. Mason gripped my shoulder, his short, spiky black hair blowing slightly in the wind. “It’s real” he said, the beginnings of a smile spreading out on his face. “Yep” was all I could say, and then the three of us looked back and forth at each other and began cheering, earning quite a few looks from people. I calmed us down, waving my hands to quiet the group. We need to keep a level head, here. As…hard as it may be. “Okay, first things first. We need to find out exactly when we are” I looked down at how I was dressed. Well, we’re gonna look slightly out of place wearing modern jackets, cargo pants and sneakers. That can’t be helped, though. “Come on” I said, and began leading the way down the sidewalk.
As I guided us back down the street, my gaze flickered from one side of the street to the other, knowing we were drawing looks from everyone we passed, but still trying to remain as quiet as possible. I felt like I was a little kid in a candy shop with a pocketful of money. After so long of dreaming of being able to be back in this time…I’m finally here! The revelation made me feel positively giddy inside, but I held it down as I looked for something which could help me find what time period specifically we were in. The sound of an all too familiar song caused me to stop and look across the street. A record shop stood there, with one large speaker over the door belting out music. I looked both ways to make sure there were no cars coming, then crossed the street to it. Through the window, I could see a record player spinning a record; it was hooked up to the speaker. Beside it sat another copy of the record currently playing. I leaned down and read the words written on it out loud to my friends.
“Diana Dors. A Kiss and a Cuddle” This time, an almost ear splitting grin crossed my face as a thought crossed my mind. I’m now alive at the same time as Diana Dors! She was one of my favorite actresses from this time, in my mind even more iconic than Marilyn Monroe. She was also one of my longest and biggest crushes; I’d had it ever since I’d been ten years old and seen her beautiful face for the first time in Is Your Honeymoon Really Necessary? “So what does that tell us?” Mason asked as I stood up straight again. “It means we’re in at least 1953 or later” I said, turning to him, “This single wasn’t released until 53; therefore, we’re in at least that decade. And, if it’s playing from a record store, that means it’s not long after its release. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be playing it to draw in customers” He gave me an impressed look, nodding. “I wouldn’t have thought of that” He slapped me on the arm. “Nice thinking, bro!” I was about to thank him when Dylan cut in, pointing further down the street. “Look!” he said, and we followed his gaze. A newspaper kiosk is what he’d picked out among the crowd continuously filling the sidewalks.
He began to lead the way, and I stopped for a second before following, allowing myself to drink in the song for one last moment. As I looked around the way we’d come, something caught my eye. Or, rather, someone. Standing about half a block back the way we’d come was a man, one dressed in a long black overcoat and matching hat. He didn’t move at all; the crowd simply moved around him as if he were a rock sitting in a stream. The glare of the sun meant I couldn’t see where he was looking, but he was facing in my direction, and it almost gave the impression that he was staring directly at me. I gazed at him for a moment longer before Mason’s call snapped me out of it. “Eric, come on!” Shaking my head, I turned to look back at the man, but he was gone. Weird, I thought, but pushed the odd encounter, even for a 21st Century thirty something year old being viewed by a 20th Century person, aside, and hurried after my friends.
Rejoining them, we slipped through a rather large crowd admiring a shop which sold bicycles and radios, and reached the stand. The gentleman manning it, a guy who looked to be in his mid fifties, looked at us quizzically. “Well, you’re dressed a bit odd, aren’t ya lads?” he asked us. I saw Mason and Dylan shoot each other looks as if to ask each other, what do we say to that? But before either could attempt to say anything, I spoke up. “We’re Americans, sir, that’d be why” I said, plastering a smile on my face and attempting to speak in the manner I remembered from the movies. “We’re friends with some rather innovative fashion designers in California, and they asked if while we traveled here to try out some of their new styles” I continued. I could see my friends exchanging a look. But, it seemed the man had bought it. He nodded and smiled back. “You Americans always come up with new things” he said jovially. “I have to say, it’s interesting” he added, before getting back to business. “So, what can I do for you three, then?”
“We’re just looking to get ourselves a newspaper, sir” Mason said, finally speaking up. The man looked at him, then gestured at the selection in front of him. “Take your pick then, tuppence each” he announced. Dylan leaned in close to me. “Tup…pence?” he whispered. “Two pence” I told him, then reached into my inner coat pocket for something the thief who’d taken my wallet hadn’t gotten. They were two of my most prized possessions, two antique pence coins I’d bought off EBay a long time ago. It was almost like my good luck charm. And now, they’re needed most. Holding them out, I watched the man pluck them from my fingers, look at them, then nod and slide them into his pocket. I’ll miss you, Buddies, I thought. Glancing down, I grabbed one and tucked it under my arm. “Thank you very much!” I said, raising a hand in farewell. “You’re welcome, lads, come back again if you’re staying long!” he said, mirroring my gesture before turning to greet his next customer. I took a few steps away before taking a deep breath and pulling the newspaper from my arm. I held it up and read the date aloud.
“July 7th, 1953” I looked up at my friends. “Well, now we know for certain we’re in the fifties. 53, to be precise” Dylan shook his head incredulously. “I still can’t believe that this is real, my dudes” he said, “I know we came out here to find exactly this, but, now that it’s happening, it’s like it’s not real” Mason answered him, but I didn’t catch his response. After I’d glanced up from the newspaper, I’d let my eyes wander out over the crowd, absently flicking over the men, women and children milling around. As I had turned to look away, a familiar figure had caught my gaze. It was the exact same man again. Same coat, same hat. Just like his first appearance, he stood perfectly still in the crowd as they passed by him. They almost act like he’s not even there. Like they can’t see him. For some reason, this thought, combined with the fact that he was again looking in my direction caused a chill to go up my spine. I shivered slightly, even though the air felt warm.
Mason had noticed me not paying attention. He pushed my shoulder gently. “Hey, Eric, what’s up?” he asked. For a second, I tried finding my voice, then spoke, trying to appear as nonchalantly as possible. “Twelve o’clock, almost directly across the street. You see the guy standing still in the black coat and hat?” They scanned the crowd for a moment, then spotted him. “Yeah” Dylan said, holding his gaze on him before looking at me. “What about him?” I pointed at my chest, signaling I was aiming it through me at him. “I’ve seen him twice before now. Once when we were outside the record shop, and now” I said. Mason looked puzzled. “So?” he asked, “What about him? Aside from the fact it’s kind of weird he’s just standing there, he looks normal to me” I shook my head. “You don’t get it. He’s been pulling that statue routine both times I’ve seen him. And he’s been looking right at me both times” Now both of them had concerned looks on their faces. “Okay, that is a little weird, even for this experience” Dylan said. He looked at us, then at the man. Then he sighed. “Okay, why don’t we go talk to him, then, ask him what his problem is” Before I had a chance to say anything, he was already crossing the street.
Mason and I shared a look, then hurried after him. I tried grabbing him by the arm to stop him, but he seemed to have become irritated by what I’d pointed out about the stranger, and shook himself out of my grasp. “Dylan, bro, this is a bad idea” I pleaded, speed walking to keep up with his strides. “Let’s not do this, okay? The last thing we need is to get in trouble with fifties British bobbies and wind up behind bars!” He shook his head. “No matter what century we’re in, manners are manners. And you know I don’t like people staring at me” It was true; since I’d first known him, Dylan had hated people staring at him, largely due to his height of six foot seven. I tried pleading with him again, but his mind was made up. He gently pushed his way through the crowd; I could just barely see the man’s hat sticking above the others. Finally, we pushed out from them, and Mason couldn’t help but let out a “Whah?!”
The man was gone. All three of us hadn’t taken our eyes off him as we approached, and none of us had seen him slip away. And yet, there was just an empty spot of sidewalk where he’d been not even four seconds prior. “What the hell…?” Dylan said, more to himself than us. He twisted around, looking like he was trying to spot him. “Where the hell did he go?” he demanded, a little too loud. I hissed at him. “Dylan, language, bro! Remember when we are!” He gave no indication he’d heard me. Fortunately, it seemed nobody passing by us had heard him, or if they had, they’d simply ignored it. They continued to simply stream by us, not seeming to pay us any attention anymore. We must’ve been on the street long enough for them to stop staring at our clothes and hair styles. For a moment, the thought comforted me, before it was replaced by another one. Eric, you’re dressed in a black zip up jacket with a Dodge Challenger Hellcat on the back, camouflage cargo pants, and Converses. If Back to the Future taught you anything, it’s that people will ALWAYS look at you weird in this situation.
I tried to brush away the thought, but it clung in my head like it was a fly stuck to old school flypaper. An uneasy feeling began to creep over me as it stayed in my brain. I could hear Mason and Dylan arguing amongst themselves, but I tuned them out. I turned to the swarm of people passing by us, raising a hand gently. “Uh, excuse me, sir?” I called out to a man passing by in a brown coat and hat. He strode by us without giving any indication he’d heard me. Okay… I turned and tried again, this time to a brown haired woman walking with her two children. I spoke a bit louder. “Excuse me, ma’am, can I spare a second of you-“ Just like with the man, she passed by me as if she’d never even seen me. As if she couldn’t see me. I decided, with a rising wave of panic coursing through me, to try one last time. I saw a large man walking with a group of others, and strode out in front of him. “Eric?” I heard Mason call, but I didn’t pay any attention to him. I stopped about ten feet from the man as he strode towards me. “Hey, buddy!” I called, almost shouting as my voice unwillingly rose with my emotions, “Could you please stop for a second, my friends and I really need some-“
The man walked straight into me, never breaking his stride for a second. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, falling hard backwards to the sidewalk and slamming my head on the concrete. I saw stars circling above me. If it’d been any other situation, I would’ve laughed. Who knew it? Seeing stars isn’t just a phrase. And then my friends were there, helping me up. Dylan turned, his face having gone a deep shade of red with rage. “Hey, fuck you, asshole!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. The man and his entourage continued walking away from us. “Did you hear me, numb nuts?!” he shouted, even louder. “They can’t hear you, lads” a quiet voice spoke from behind us. We all whirled around to find the man had reappeared, standing only a few feet behind us. He wore a friendly smile, leaning on a black cane with gold on the handle and the bottom. At this distance, we could make out his face finally. I felt my jaw drop open, knowing the others must’ve had similar expressions on their faces. “You…have got…to be kidding me” Mason managed out.
It was the man we’d seen in the Swan Inn that first day when we’d arrived. When we’d arrived in 2022. He chuckled at Mason’s words. “No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you, my boy” he said pleasantly. He took a step forwards. “But…how?” I had finally managed to recover my voice and spoke the question in an odd tone. He shrugged, then let his smile drop away as he stepped within about two feet of us. He shook his head, clucking his tongue. “I told you that you didn’t want to find this” he said solemnly. “I gave you my warning, and you didn’t heed it” He sighed. “But, that’s you Americans. You never listen to others who know better” Mason spoke up. “Dude, who the hell are you?” he demanded. The man turned to him, his solemn expression breaking back into a smile. “Lad, that’s the wrong question” he said, winking at him. Dylan took a step towards the man, closing the gap between us even further, asserting himself as our protector. “Then what is the right question, man?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at him. I thought I saw something flash in the man’s eyes as he turned to regard my friend towering over him. “The correct question you should be asking is, what am I?” he replied.
For a moment, I felt the same chill come over me, now in a much more pronounced way. It had looked like his smile had changed for a second. From something good natured to….something else. Dylan was almost face to face with him. “Fine, asshole, WHAT are you?” he almost spat.
“The last thing you three will ever see” As the man spoke those words, his voice seemed to change. It dropped an octave or two, becoming deep and raspy. It also gained a very sinister and malicious edge to it, changing almost instantly from his prior friendliness. That’s when he reached out and snatched Dylan by the throat. Mason and I took a step back in shock at how lightning quick the man had been. “Let…go…of me!” Dylan sputtered out, trying to tear himself from the man’s grip. But it was as if it was made of steel. Mason and I began to take a step forward to help our friend, when something made us freeze. For a second, it was as if the man shimmered, as if he were a reflection in glass. And then…he began to change. And, oh God…what he began turning into is something that I still see when I close my eyes, even to this day. The upper half of his face began to bulge out, almost as if someone had stuck a helium machine into it and turned it on. His eyes bulged out of their sockets, the blue irises replaced by black eyes with red, almost magma red lines scattered across them.
At the same time, the bottom half of his- its face simply seemed to drop away, melting like an oil painting on fire. Underneath was, what I can only describe as a monstrous mouth. It was far too wide for its face, taking up from where the nose of a person should be, to just above the chin. But the worst part was the teeth which filled its mouth. Far too many teeth, which seemed to stick out from the gums. And they looked very sharp. It looked at Dylan, the wicked grin seeming to grow wider. Mason and I stood rooted to the spot, almost under a sort of spell until Dylan managed to let out a scream. “RUN!” That broke it for us, and we turned and began to sprint away, pushing through the crowds of people who didn’t notice. I felt like my heart was about to burst out of my chest, and I would drop dead of heart failure at any second. But I kept running. I didn’t dare look back, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mason look. Whatever he saw made him scream, a high pitched scream that made me feel as if my eardrums were about to burst. Grabbing my arm, he moved away from the crowd, crossing the street, which thankfully for the moment was empty.
I almost didn’t want to ask him what he’d seen as we stopped to catch our breath in the awning of a purse shop. But…I needed to know. “What, what’d you see?!” I said, tears staining my cheeks. He took a second to answer. “It….it was fucking eating him, man!” he shouted, his voice echoing along with the voices of the other people and from the buildings. I felt the blood drain from my face. “It picked him up off his feet like it was nothing, and…just stuffed him inside its mouth up to the waist and….” He trailed off, crying too hard to continue. “Okay, calm down, bro” I said to him, grabbing him by the shoulders. “We need to come up with a plan to-“ My idea for trying to come up with a plan to get back to our time shattered into a million pieces as I saw what looked like a black, fluid mass melting its way through the crowd towards us at tremendous speed. “Fuck!” I breathed out. Mason spotted it as well. “Fuck this, man!” he shouted, and pushed me, hard. I fell back onto my elbows, catching a glimpse as he began to run away in a panic. “Help me!” he screamed out. “Help me!”
But nobody answered him. The creature flew right over me, not even paying me any attention. It was too focused on my friend to care; too caught up with the chase. I scrambled to my feet. “Mason, look out!” I screamed, but my cry came a second too late. I saw it reach him, reaching out with clawed hands which seemed to simply appear from the mass. The hands grabbed him by his arm, and I heard him scream louder than I ever had before. I’m…I’m honestly ashamed to admit this, but…I was a coward. I didn’t run to help my friend. Instead, I turned and ran the other way, jumping almost into the street to avoid the people. As I ran, I couldn’t help but look back. And…good fucking God, do I wish I hadn’t.
The creature had hoisted up Mason the exact same way he had described what happened to Dylan. He kicked and thrashed in its grasp, screaming all the while, but not budging. And then it jammed him headfirst into its mouth, up to the hips. His screams became muffled for a moment. Until it bit down. Instantly, the screams stopped. A moment later, they were replaced with others. Mine. I ran as fast as I could, aiming for the church out of some dumbass belief from horror movies it couldn’t touch me in it. That’s when I tripped. My foot caught in a storm drain, and I went tumbling ass over teakettle. I heard the blare of a car horn, along with the gasp of many people as I slammed onto my face. I curled into a ball, not daring to look. I heard concerned voices talking. And then, a gentle woman’s voice, almost directly over me.
“Are you alright, darling?” For a second, I refused to lift my head, then looked up. The face I saw staring down at me with concern was the last one I expected to see. Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. I was staring up at Diana Dors. Her blonde hair bobbed around her head, and the beautiful blue eyes I’d long since fallen half in love with peered down at me, filled with genuine worry. She wore a white dress which clung to her figure, a fur wrap draped around her shoulders. I looked around, noticing that other people were looking at me again; a small group of them were gathered behind her to watch. I managed to let my breath out in a ragged gasp. I’m safe…for now. Looking up, I debated about lying to her; after all, I was finally face to face with the one person I’d wanted to meet more than anything. But, I couldn’t. “Not really” I confessed, feeling self conscious all of a sudden. She smiled sweetly at me, then extended a hand to me. “Here” she said. After a second, I took it, letting her help me up. “Thanks” I said, unsure of what else to say. I’d had a million things I’d planned on saying to her, so many smooth and suave things I’d practiced in front of the mirror. But after the horror I’d just witnessed, they all had flown the coop, replaced with the thoughts of my lost friends.
“What on earth happened to you?” she asked, wiping a bit of dirt from my shoulders. Again, I decided to be open. “You, honestly wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Ms. Dors” She waved her hand. “Please, just call me Diana” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Diana” I corrected myself. She cocked her head at me. “Try me” she said softly. For a second, I debated not saying anything, but then it all came blubbering out. I looked so pathetic spilling everything, snot running down my face and crying. When I’d finished, I looked up to find her staring at me with concern. “You don’t believe me, do you?” I choked out. She shook her head. “No, darling, I do. Just try and calm down. Everything’s okay now” She held out her arms. “Here, give me a hug, it’ll help you feel better” I didn’t know what else to do, and so I began to lean towards her.
That’s when I noticed something. The people behind her were looking at me. She was looking at me. But, all the people behind her? The ones still streaming by? They weren’t. They didn’t pay any attention at all. I felt my blood turn to ice as I put together everything in my mind. “Oh….fuck me” I whispered, turning to look at her. She was still smiling. But it was beginning to bulge and stretch out, turning the sweet expression it held to pure evil. “It’s alright” she said, the raspy deep voice bleeding through, along with a sick, gurgling laugh.
I screamed and snapped backwards as a hand reached out for me, just barely missing me. “Where’re you gonna go?” I heard it ask, the last tendril’s of Diana’s voice falling away from it. I didn’t think. I just ran. I ran back past the record shop, the song still playing; only this time, it held no warmth or happiness, but was a sick soundtrack…to my own death. Still screaming, I ran for the only place I could think of, knowing it was just behind me. I ran for the alley. Turning into it, I ran to the end and slammed into the wall, falling and curling into a ball. For the longest time, all I did was cry. Until something kicked me. I let out a strangled scream and snapped out. “Hey, easy lad!” I heard a man cry. One that wasn’t that…thing’s voice. Forcing myself to, I looked up to see a man standing over me with a perplexed look on his face. A man wearing a hoodie. I looked around, and saw the graffiti and trash covered streets. It took a second for the realization to sink in. I’m back.
Standing up, I stumbled past the man, ignoring his questions. I looked up and down Bold Street. I saw the ugly, tacky shops perverting the buildings. I saw the modern cars. I saw the modern people. And they never looked more beautiful.
I stumbled out of that alley almost a year ago now. When I got back to the hotel, I’d phoned the police, making up a story about how we’d been ambushed in the alley by a group of masked men. About how, when I’d come to, my friends had been gone. I didn’t dare tell them the truth. After all, a shapeshifting monster who had eaten my friends after going back to the 1950s? I’d have been forced into a padded room. They put out an investigation, one which ended only just this spring. They never found a trace of Mason or Dylan. I knew they wouldn’t. I’ve cried many tears for them since. I don’t really know how or why I managed to get back to my own time. Neither do I know if I managed to escape that thing, or if it simply let me go, having had it’s fill with my friends. I’ve been plagued by nightmares every single night since of what I saw that day. I wake up, screaming at images of people being eaten alive, people melting and changing in front of me. Of Diana, changing into that…thing. Making it so I can’t watch a movie of hers now without shuddering at the memory. And of nobody else hearing us scream as we ran past them.
I’ve finally decided on posting this here, after debating on doing so for months, for three reasons. As an account of the things, the horror I saw that day. As a way to finally tell the truth about what happened to my friends. And, most importantly, as a warning. To all of you. Time Slips are indeed real. Very real. And there is indeed one on Bold Street in Liverpool. But, for those who search for it, take my advice. Pray you never do stumble into it. Because something else is there. Something that uses the slip as its own personal hunting grounds. Something that may spot you if you’re not careful. And those sights of the 50s and 60s? May just end up being the last things you ever see.