The Apathy of Evil

The iron gate slammed down from overhead just after they passed through the doorway. It bounced, wobbled, then fell undramatically over. Ahead, half of a trapdoor opened, easing down with a squeak of poorly-oiled hinges. The other half stayed up, firmly wedged. It was more solid than the floor, which sagged and groaned under their feet.

They pushed through the archway, a rotting spiderweb falling in dusty pieces around them. In the shadows under the stairs, segmented legs shifted, revealing dozens of bleary compound eyes. "If evil triumphs when good men do nothing, what will be left after me?"

Revisited

Randolph stared at his hands, playing with a truck.  But he'd just been in the hospital, surely!  He could almost feel the tubes in his nose.

"Hey, loser!"

He recognized that voice.  Big Grady, the school bully.  Randolph recognized all of this, in fact.  Grady had beaten him up, badly, and ruined the rest of his school year.  I've gone back in time, Randolph thought.  Well, let's see how Grady likes thirty years of military training!

Randolph tried to stand, but the young body wouldn't respond.  He only sat, frozen, just as in his memory. 

A shadow fell over him.