“You can get anything you want on the Dark Web, you know,” Paul’s uncle says loudly from where he is standing next to the snack table at Paul’s cousin’s birthday party. He gestures expansively with his cheese-covered cracker perched on a cocktail napkin. “Anything at all. Body parts. Drugs. No problem — you can hire an assassin if you want! Nothing’s illegal in there!”
“Drugs! Randall, come on. There are children everywhere. Please watch your words!” Paul’s mom swoops over to police her little brother as usual. Uncle Randy is the only adult in Paul’s family with a boyfriend instead of a wife, and for reasons Paul has not been able to discern, this fact seems to make him circumspect to the other adults. The current boyfriend titters an awkward, apologetic laugh in Paul’s mother’s direction before ducking behind Uncle Randy to grab another cracker.
“Victoria don’t worry so much — kids should learn these things. Hell, there’s enough kids his age out there surfing the Dark Web already.” Uncle Randy jabs a mini pickle in the air toward Paul, who is watching the conversation from the corner with interest.
“Well, Randall, I don’t want my kid anywhere near that. It’s dangerous.”
“Is it really dangerous, Vic? Or is it just sheeple like you who think it’s dangerous, because you’re afraid of a future without Big Brother government breathing down our necks all the time? Hmmm? Think about that for a minute.” Uncle Randy’s great loves in life are conspiracy theories and antagonizing people with his conspiracy theories.
“Okay, Randall, well not everyone agrees and not everyone here wants their kids exposed to these ideas, so can you lower your voice please?”
“Sure, Vic. It’s only a matter of time before he learns these things. May as well learn it from me, right, buddy?” Uncle Randy winks at his nephew. Paul grins but turns to slink off down the hallway like he knows he should if he doesn’t want a lecture from his mom later. “It’s a portal to another world!” Is the last thing Paul hears, yelled after him down the hallway before Uncle Randy is silenced again.
----------------------------------------
“Now I want you to think creatively about this project,” Paul’s teacher stood in front of the class with hands on hips to make herself look bigger. “This is a project where each of you can take initiative to study something really unique. You can think of any topic you want.” Paul’s mind drifted as the teacher went on to talk about the rubric and the grading and the actual point of the assignment. He knew what he was going to do for his project instantly: The Dark Web. He would do his project on that amazing topic Uncle Randy had been talking about. ‘You can get anything you want on the Dark Web… It’s a portal to another world.’ He began his research that very day on the school library computer, during lunch. He found a lot of books written for adults and tried to make sense of what they were saying. The authors wrote of an exciting secret world. One of them said:
“Beyond the familiar online world that most of us inhabit — a world of Google, Hotmail, Facebook and Amazon — lies a vast and often hidden network of sites, communities and cultures where freedom is pushed to its limits, and where people can be anyone, or do anything, they want. A world that is as creative and complex as it is dangerous and disturbing. A world that is much closer than you think.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Paul was fascinated. He spent the rest of lunch period finding new books and websites and watching Youtube videos all about the Dark Web. After school that day, Paul searched for more Dark Web facts on his ipad and started making lots of notes. He scribbled furiously. He drew pictures and diagrams connected to more diagrams. He totally missed his mom calling him to come for dinner until she stood right outside his bedroom and pounded on the door.
Fast forward three weeks, four days, five hours and 32 minutes and Paul’s project is finally complete. The uncle’s stories, the teacher’s instructions, Paul’s decision and subsequent research: this is the sequence of events which led to the rabbit appearing in Paul’s bedroom.
It is the very morning when he is supposed to present his Dark Web project to the whole class. Paul is supposed to be getting dressed, but he’s gotten side-tracked double-checking that all of his information is glued securely to his Bristol board. He can’t allow any of the important information he’s gathered to fall off during the school bus ride. Gradually, Paul feels eyes watching him from behind. Even before he consciously registers the fact, he knows on some level that the eyes are not human. He hears something clear its throat behind him, too short to be an adult person. Too low in pitch to be a child. Paul turns slowly, carefully to see what it is.
“Hello Sir. Forgive the intrusion, but I haven’t got a lot of time.” The rabbit stands (yes, stands, on its back legs like a human) on Paul’s carpet in front of the toy box Paul almost never uses anymore, because he is getting too old for toys. The rabbit blends in; It almost seems like one of the stuffed animals which stare, glassy eyed, out from the toybox. (Except, you know, it can talk which until now, Paul has not experienced with any of the stuffed animals.) Paul blinks and rubs his eyes. The rabbit is still there. It cocks one ear straight up in the air and furrows its brow. Paul senses the rabbit is becoming frustrated. “You are the one they call ‘Paul,’ are you not?” The rabbit asks.
“I am Paul, yup. That’s me,” says Paul.
“Alright, well, it’s come to our attention that you are somewhat of an expert in the Dark Web.” A distinct impatience has entered the rabbit’s tone. It waits. “Well…?”
“Well, what?” says Paul.
“Well, is it true? That you are an expert in the Dark Web?”
Paul considers this for a moment. He glances at the board behind him. It is overflowing with facts. He straightens his shoulders and says, with what he hopes sounds like confidence:
“Yes, yes I am.”
“Wonderful. Finally! We must get going, sir. There isn’t any time to lose. The Web is growing as we speak. Hopefully you get a little quicker with your answers — you can work on that on the way.” The rabbit extends its front paw toward Paul. It is holding what looks like a gray leather-bound booklet. “Here. This is your passport. We can use the wormhole so it’ll be quick — less chance of being stopped and questioned, just straight to the burrow.”
Paul stares at the rabbit, dumbfounded. A rushing sound starts to build in his ears.
“Hurry!” The rabbit yells, thrusting the little booklet at him urgently. Paul is startled and grabs onto the rabbit’s paw instead of taking the passport as instructed. The rabbit, shocked and embarrassed at being grabbed, accidentally lets go of Paul’s passport. The second his hand closes around the warm fuzz of the rabbit’s forepaw, Paul feels a rush like wind whooshing all around him. The carpet of his bedroom fades away as gravity loses all meaning. Everything begins to spin like the inside of a washing machine as he feels his half-digested breakfast lurch in his stomach.
“Close your eyes! Otherwise you’ll throw up!” He hears the rabbit scream at him. Paul obeys and feels his body sucked forward to float, weightless, on what feels like a river, but Paul can’t feel any water. He tightens his grip on the rabbit’s furry paw as the silent current carries them into the mysterious unknown.
I’m not scared, Paul thinks bravely.
But he is, just a little bit.
Behind them, on the worn gray carpet of Paul’s bedroom, the passport which the rabbit brought Paul lands with a gentle thud, bounces once and comes to rest behind the toybox.