RehnWriter

What do you do with a room full of old, musty suitcases?

This question came to my mind after I’d had a look through my late uncle’s estate. He’d recently passed away, and as his only living relative, his home fell to me by default. I knew I wouldn’t find much of value. His old farmstead was big, but in terrible condition. The furniture was a remnant of days past, and the many tools he’d amassed were rusty and hadn’t been touched in years.

I found the suitcases in a storage room at the back of the house. They filled an entire room. I blinked, shook my head, and looked again. What the hell? I knew some people owned multiple suitcases, or even multiple sets. This was different. Who the hell owned an entire room full of them? I solved the mystery quickly. In his later years, my uncle had worked as a market trader. He bought cheap products in bulk before selling it on the weekly markets in the area. These suitcases were one of his last purchases. I tried to figure out how many there were, but it seemed impossible. There had to be hundreds of the damned things.

I had a closer look at one of them, hoping they might be worth something. It was huge, massive even, but the quality was shoddy at best. The exterior was made of synthetic leather, thin and flimsy to the touch. Inside, the lining was covered in strange, pinkish satin. Even worse, the suitcases gave off an odd smell, an unpleasant combination of something sweet and musty.

Nonetheless, a few days later, I took one suitcase to a pawnshop in a nearby town. When I handed it to the owner, he frowned. He turned it around a few times before he opened it. He wrinkled his nose at the odd smell before his eyes fell on the strange inner lining. Confusion came over his face, quickly replaced by disdain, before he shook his head.

“Hope you didn’t pay much for it because it’s pretty much worthless. The materials are terrible, and the design is shoddy and old-fashioned.”

I sighed.

“Well, I expected as much, but don’t you think collectors or vintage enthusiasts might be interested in them?”

The man shrugged.

“You could give eBay a try, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Sure you don’t want to give it a try yourself?”

The man laughed and promptly shoved the suitcase back in my direction.

“Sorry, no dice.”

I thanked the man and made my way back to my uncle’s home. For a few days, I left the suitcases where they were; a forgotten memento of my late uncle’s life. Still, they lingered on my mind, and eventually I couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist anymore. I began sorting through them, picked a few that seemed in better condition, and took them downstairs.

I put them on the floor in my uncle’s old bedroom, which I’d already stripped bare. There on the hardwood floor, I tried my best to take fancy looking pictures of them. It wasn’t easy. They really were old and cheaply made, and no matter the lighting, they looked absolutely terrible.

What made the entire ordeal even worse were my two feline roommates, Keisha and James. The two of them didn’t mind the suitcases’ odd smell, no they loved it. The moment I turned away, one of them would crawl into whatever suitcase I currently focused on, and having the time of their life going to war with the inner lining. Keisha and James were both three-year-old tabbies. While Keisha was bright orange, James was grayish white. They were the sneakiest little troublemakers I’d ever come upon and made taking pictures a living hell.

And yet, I couldn’t imagine myself being out here without them. I loved the two of them to death, and they seemed to love those old suitcases to death.

Once I’d finished the monumental task of taking a handful of decent pictures, I created an auction on eBay.

Almost a week passed before a single offer arrived. A young man named Damien messaged me and said he was interested. He was a vintage collector and wrote he wanted to take a look at them. I was surprised, but it seemed some people really were interested in weird old stuff. That’s what I thought, at least. The moment Damien arrived, and I showed him the actual suitcases, his mood soured.

“Yeah, just looking at them tells me it’s some pretty cheap shit. Thanks for wasting my time.”

“You said you were interested, so…”

“That’s because of the pictures. You didn’t say the material was shit… and god, they smell! Those your grandpa’s or something?”

I sighed audibly. What an asshole. Instead of retorting, I tried a different route.

“Tell you what. You can have them for free. That way your trip wasn’t entirely-“

“And what do I do with them? Like I said, they’re shit, and they stink. I appreciate the gesture, but I’m good.”

With that, he made his way back outside, and without another word, drove off. Thus, I was left with hundreds of old, musty, and, most importantly of all, worthless suitcases.

When I returned to the room to get rid of them, Keisha and James were busy hiding and playing in them.

“How come you guys love these so much?”

All I got was a loud meow from Keisha before she vanished inside one of them. I watched the two of them for a little while and eventually decided to let them have the suitcases for now.

The next evening, after a long day of sorting through my uncle’s belongings, I busied myself on the internet. For a while I watched some YouTube videos before I ended up looking at cat toys and climbing trees. I blame James, who snuggled up on my lap as I sat on the living room couch.

I was sure they’d love a climbing tree, especially in this half-empty house. Those things cost money, however, and I’d told myself no unnecessary purchases until I’d sold the place. Then I got an idea. I’d always been a do-it-yourself guy, and decided to look up homemade climbing trees. Yet what I found were mostly instructions on building box fortresses. Given my situation, I couldn’t afford to waste any boxes.

“Sorry, little guy,” I said to James as I scratched his head.

When I got up to prepare myself something to eat, I saw Keisha in one of the half-open suitcases. She was snuggled up against the satin lining, blissfully asleep. Right at that moment, another one of my problems returned to my mind: the freaking suitcases. What the hell do I do with them? How’d I even get rid of them? I couldn’t very well just dump them outside for the garbage collectors.

Then it clicked. I couldn’t build a box fortress because I needed all my boxes. What I could do, however, was to build a suitcase fortress. Or, how I came to call it in my head, Suitcase Land.

While I ate dinner, my mind was already hard at work, making plans on how to build a fortress from suitcases. I had hundreds of the damned things, and they were all completely worthless. If I wanted to, I could just cut them open and tape them together. Hell, I could use a break from the perpetual mundanity of clearing out my uncle’s house.

I started on my work soon after. At first, I tried to use a carpet knife, but the suitcases proved sturdier than originally thought. After a few minutes, I gave up in frustration, went to my uncle’s workshop, and returned with a saw. It was old and rusty, but still made the job much easier. I cut away both ends of the suitcase. Then did the same to another one and taped them together, creating a sort of tunnel.

I don’t know what drove me on, but I was soon completely obsessed with this little project. I was at it for days. The hours passed by without me even noticing while I worked feverishly. What I’d imagined as nothing but a circular tunnel comprising a few suitcases soon grew in magnitude. The ground level changed into a convoluted mess, and afterwards I started on a second level. I added towers, bridges, and even overhangs, all made from suitcases. I went completely overboard, but I was isolated out here, frustrated, and bored to death. It allowed me to finally live out the creative urges I’d suppressed for the past weeks.

Once I was done, I’d used up more than half of the suitcases. When I saw what I’d created, I was in awe. Suitcase Land had grown from a small, ground-based maze to a room-filling fortress of tunnels, towers, and dead ends. James and Keisha were head-over-heels in love with my creation. The moment I was done, and revealed it to them, they vanished inside and weren’t seen for hours. They must’ve been busy exploring the various tunnels, sneaking up on each other, or sleeping in there.

I expected them to tire of it after a day or two, but they kept it up for the entire week. They only ever left when I put down their food. Occasionally, one of them would dart outside, after what I could only assume was another little territorial scuffle.

Out of curiosity, I sometimes stepped up to Suitcase Land, trying to listen in on what they were doing, or even calling out to them, to see if I’d get a reaction. Most of the time, nothing would happen, but sometimes, I could hear their muffled meows, distant, as if they were far, far away. At others, they’d come out of the place hours later, somewhat confused that I wasn’t waiting for them at the entrance.

I couldn’t help but wonder what they were up to in there. After some deliberation, I got an idea.

I hit up a cat-owning friend and convinced him to let me borrow not only a cat harness but also a GoPro he’d used to record his own feline’s adventures. Once the small package arrived, I couldn’t wait to get started. James was the first victim of my newfound curiosity. When I tried to fit the harness on him, he struggled and lamented in misery. Keisha, however, didn’t seem to mind, and after some early suspicions, accepted the harness. I fastened the GoPro around her neck and let her roam. For a few minutes, she tested her footing, but once she’d adjusted, she returned to Suitcase Land.

Once evening arrived, and I ate dinner, I saw Keisha again. In a single swift motion, I picked her up, put her on my lap, and got a hold of the GoPro. As I watched the recording, I fast-forwarded to the moment she entered Suitcase Land. I don’t know why, but I felt myself leaning forward, watching the footage with a strange sense of fascination. She crawled through the barely lit entrance tunnel, but the moment she’d made it past the first bend, the footage was too dark to make out anything. I continued playing it for a while longer and listened as Keisha moved around before I closed the recording in frustration.  Well, that was useless. Great idea, but as so often, I hadn’t been smart enough to think things through.

Next day, in the evening, I got another idea. I fastened a Maglite to the GoPro. I turned off all the lights in the living room and let Keisha walk around for a bit. To my surprise, the footage turned out well enough. So once again, I let her go on another one of her little adventures.

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I saw was James’ little face. He’d crawled up on top of me, and was meowing right into my face.

“Well, aren’t you happy to see me, little guy?”

I petted him for a bit and stroked his back, but he didn’t pure like usual.

“What’s the matter, little buddy? You hungry?”

I got up and made my way to the feeding bowls, but James didn’t follow. Instead, he walked halfway through the living room, and stared at Suitcase Land.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you this morning?” I asked, reaching out for him.

The moment I touched him, his fur bristled, and he hissed before he realized it was me. He came up to me and huddled behind me, his eyes never moving from Suitcase Land.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again before I realized I hadn’t seen Keisha.

I called out her name, but got no reaction. Normally, she’d come running right away, especially since it was time for breakfast. I made my way to the entrance of Suitcase Land and called out again. Nothing.

When I turned to James, he hadn’t moved, and was still keeping a safe distance from the place. Shit, what if something happened to Keisha? Maybe she was hurt, or got stuck. For the first time, I regretted building this entire stupid thing, and especially making it this big.

I went back to the entrance and rattled the first few suitcases, hoping she’d come out. When that didn’t work, I began wandering the entire construction, leaning in close here and there, calling out again and again.

Finally, I heard it. At first it was only a quiet rustling before I heard a muffled meow coming from deep inside the suitcased monstrosity.

For a second, I considered tearing the entire thing down, but how long would it take me to find her? Even worse, what if she really was stuck, and I’d end up hurting her even more? Hell, maybe she was right past the first bend, just unable to move, and entangled in that weird inner lining.

“Dammit,” I cursed, and got myself a flashlight before I pushed my upper body into the first suitcase.

“Keisha!” I called out.

I pushed my arm as far as I could, but the first bend was too far away. Then, with no other choice left, I got down on my hands and knees and pushed myself inside. To my surprise, I could make it. Those things really were huge. As I did, the suitcases’ heavy, musty air assaulted me like a physical sensation making me cough. Jesus, how come the cats liked this place so much? I’d have laughed about how ridiculous this was if I wasn’t so worried about Keisha. I’d built this stupid thing for the cats, not for myself!

After a few seconds, I’d made it far enough to reach the first bend and to look around it. Using the flashlight, I illuminated the tunnel in front of me, but all I saw were more interconnected suitcases and a mass of inner lining. No hint of Keisha. I called out again, and soon the strange, muffled meow reached my ears once more.

“Where the hell is she?” I cursed to myself.

Pushing myself past the first bend proved almost impossible. My arms and legs got entangled in the inner lining, the satin clinging to my skin as if alive. I tore myself free, but as I did, I could hear the tape connecting the suitcases stretch and almost tore the entire thing apart. Then I finally made it through.

As I illuminated the tunnel ahead of me, I realized just how big this damned thing was. What the hell kind of monstrosity had I built here? How’d I ever thought a room-sized cat fortress, no labyrinth, was a good idea? I crawled on, flashlight in hand, but saw nothing.

The further I continued, the less difficult moving became. At first, I could barely fit through the tunnel, and had to crawl forward on my stomach. But by now, I managed to do it on my hands and knees. It was the weirdest thing. How was there so much room? Had I used bigger suitcases for this part? They’d all been the same size, though, hadn’t they?

An icy shower went down my spine, and my heart began pounding in my chest. For a second I stopped, closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling more of the disgustingly musty suitcase air. Right at that moment, I heard Keisha again, but this time from my right. It was the same meow, sounding nearby, but also strangely distant.

As I illuminated the area ahead of me, I noticed an assortment of different tunnels. I counted six to my left and five to my right. I could only stare. In my fevered obsession, I’d ever-extended the place, added more and more parts to it, but… this many? Was there even enough room for all this? I must’ve, and yet… the strangest of feelings came over me, and I felt myself covered in cold sweat.

I moved on, and one by one, illuminated the tunnels and listened. Eventually, I pinpointed Keisha’s meow coming from the third tunnel on my right. I pushed myself inside, hoping to find Keisha in a dead-end. Instead, the tunnel continued on. It was bending in various ways before it began slopping upwards. By now, the strange feeling that had come over me turned to confusion, to fear.

This couldn’t be real. There was no way it could be this big, no way there could be a slope in here! Suddenly I felt hot, as if burning up, and I couldn’t breathe. Claustrophobia. This had to be some sort of hallucination. None of this was real! I had to be stuck in the first bend, unable to move and-

In an onset of panic, I tried to get up, tried to tear the damned tunnel apart and escape. Yet as much as I tried, however much I moved, the suitcases didn’t come apart. I desperately clawed at the inner lining, trying to find the connection, the tape, but it wasn’t there! My hands dug through more and more of it, tearing it apart. The more I did, though, the more I seemed to find, and the more it felt like… something different, something organic.

I was hyperventilating, close to freaking out. I knew I had to calm down, to breathe, but I just couldn’t. Finally, I threw myself against the side of the tunnel again and again, but it didn’t budge. I stopped my rampage when Keisha’s meow reached my ear once more.

“You stupid, freaking… Where the hell are you?!” I cursed out loud.

I was angry now, angry and afraid, and in a state of perpetual half-panic. The slope continued on for an impossibly long time, so long, I shouldn’t be in the same room anymore, not even in the house. Again and again, I brushed against the inner lining. By now, it didn’t feel like satin anymore. It felt wet and sticky, like skin. Here and there, I thought I saw it bulge, as if it was… breathing, and even felt a faint, warm breeze wafting through the tunnel.

Once again, I closed my eyes, took another deep breath, and concentrated on the beam of the flashlight in front of me. I didn’t know what was going on, where the hell I even was, but what else could I do but move forward?

Eventually, the tunnel opened to a wider area. When I saw it, a short, mad bout of laughter escaped my mouth. This couldn’t be real. I had to be imagining this. Nothing but a fever dream brought on by claustrophobia and the disgusting suitcase stink. What I saw weren’t cut apart suitcases anymore; it was a wide, open chamber.

Suddenly, the meowing pulled me back, and I focused on nothing but my worries about Keisha. It was coming from right in front of me, but I realized now that it wasn’t muffled, hadn’t been. It was distorted, all wrong, like a faulty recording. I tensed up as terror gripped me.

“K-Keisha…?” I asked in a shaken voice.

At that moment, the beam of the flashlight illuminated something in front of me. Right there, on the ground, I saw a tiny Maglite and next to it, the GoPro. I picked them up and pocketed them before I noticed the harness. How the hell had it come off? I saw it right away. It was torn apart at the back. How’d Keisha…? No, there’s no way she’d be able to tear it apart, was there? Once more, an icy shower went down my spine. If not Keisha, then… what?

As if to answer me, the sound of distant rustling reached me before I heard the soft inner lining ahead of me being cut open. My body froze and my fingers were clutching onto the flashlight as I watched the tunnel ahead of me shake. Something was freeing itself! Long, labored breathing reached me, and with it, I heard the distorted meowing again.

A quiet, high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth, and I scrambled backwards, away from the sounds ahead of me.

When something touched my back, I screamed. For a moment, I flailed around, trying to find whatever was attacking me. Then I heard a well-known meow, this time undistorted, followed by a brief hiss. When I turned around, I saw Keisha behind me, saw her tearing at my pant leg, as if to tell me to follow her. She looked terrified. Her little cat eyes were wide open, and I could see she was limping.

I instantly scooped her up and cradled her in my arms. For a second, she let me before she freed herself and snuck past me.

“No, Keisha, wait,” I called out, but my voice trailed off.

When I looked behind me, the slop was gone, and instead, I was looking at the very first bend right behind me. A short, shrill laugh escaped my mouth. Of course, it hadn’t been real. I’d gotten stuck here, and Keisha found me. I crawled backward, pushed myself through the bend and found Keisha sitting by the exit, waiting for me. Half a minute later, I’d made it outside.

Still shaking and sweaty, I stared at the construction in front of me. Even the longest part of the damned thing was barely longer than a few meters. I saw no hint of any slopes, no hint of a central chamber, and no hint of the multitude of tunnels.

Remembering Keisha, I turned around and gently got a hold of her. She was exhausted and clearly hurt. I took her to the vet instantly.

When I arrived, the vet told me she was agitated, and asked me what had happened to her. I was about to tell her about Suitcase Land, but then opted for a different story.

“I let her out yesterday afternoon, but she only returned this morning. She was limping. Maybe she got into a fight with a stray?”

The vet eyed me for a moment.

“She has a bruised leg, but it’s nothing serious. What I’m more concerned about is her back. That wound is not from another cat. It looks like a cut, maybe from a bird, but I’ve seen nothing like it.”

After a more thorough analysis, it turned out that the back wound wasn’t as serious as initially thought. It was nothing but a scratch, and had barely broken skin. In an instant, I remembered the torn harness, but… hadn’t it all been in my mind? Even though what the hell had happened to her?

For now, though, I was happy to hear she was all right, and the worst was the agitation. The vet advised me to keep her in the house for at least a week, and to make sure she wouldn’t lick the wound excessively.

Once I’d made it back home, the first thing I did was to dismantle Suitcase Land. It didn’t take long since I tore it apart by force. I was apprehensive the entire time, my eyes darting around here and there, listening for any sounds, ready for something to attack me. Nothing happened, and after only an hour, Suitcase Land was nothing but an enormous stack of half-torn-apart suitcases.

Before long, I reasoned, Keisha must’ve injured herself on a zipper. The harness had probably gotten stuck somewhere, and she’d scratched or bitten through it herself after all. And my experience? Nothing but a hallucination caused by an onset of claustrophobia I didn’t know I had, and the damned smell of the suitcases.

With that, the entire story of Suitcase Land was over. Or it would’ve been if I wouldn’t have seen the GoPro on my living room table. It was still working, and when I checked the recording, it was a single, giant video file. I hesitated, but then I finally pressed play. I didn’t know what I’d see, only that I had to see it.

This video changed everything.

I watched as Keisha made her way into Suitcase Land like so many times before. Soon enough, though, things became strange. I watched with wider and wider eyes as she ran through and explored ever-expending and ever-widening tunnels. Keisha traveled far, far further than should’ve been possible; up and down slopes, crawling through holes, and exploring wide, arching chambers. It was an absolute impossibility, and yet, it was right here, right in front of me on the screen.

And then Keisha froze, and I heard the same rustling and tearing sounds I’d heard. It grew closer and closer. The entirety of Suitcase Land was shaking, and the camera turned dark. A second later, I heard Keisha yowl and hiss furiously followed by a snap. The harness, I realized. That’s when the harness was torn off.

After that, the video comprised nothing but darkness, but I could still hear strained breathing nearby. Then, to my utter horror, a figure moved in the darkness and pushed itself closer and closer toward the camera.

A moment later, I heard the distorted imitation of Keisha’s meow again, and saw a single, alien eye staring at me.