Before the Flood

“Don’t make that face, Sofia. It smells of home,” her mother chided from the kitchen, her voice warm and melodic despite the gentle reprimand.

Marek, Sofia’s father, appeared in the doorway, his broad Slovak features creased with a grin. “Leave your sister alone, Lien. It’s a bit overwhelming, even for me.” He ruffled Sofia’s hair, and her heart softened. She loved her father’s easy way, the way he blended his heritage with Lien’s without losing any of himself.

That was how Sofia wanted to be – comfortable in her own skin, in all its mixed-up complexity. Perhaps the move would help. Their new house, nestled away from the bustle of the city, was a stark contrast to the colorful streets of their old neighborhood. It gleamed with sharp lines, glass, and chrome – an ode to modernity, a promise of a clean slate.

As the family explored their new dwelling, that promise wavered. Strange creaks filled the house at night, and the wildlife sightings seemed…odd. Boars ventured unusually close, and birds Sofia had never seen before gathered on their impossibly green lawn. Even the tech in their sleek new home acted glitchy: their Wi-Fi cut in and out, and Marek swore his phone was picking up signals that didn’t exist.

“You’re working too hard, Marek,” Lien soothed, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps a break? Go for a walk with the children.”

Her suggestion was usually met with enthusiasm, but this time Marek hesitated. “Is it just me, or is something…off? Not off about the house,” he amended, seeing Lien’s raised eyebrows. “But…around it.”

Sofia, along with her younger siblings Isabella and Daniel, exchanged glances. Curiosity sparked in her eyes, a welcome distraction from her own quiet turmoil. “Let’s explore!”

The exploration was fruitless at first. The forest surrounding the house was lush, yes, but it didn’t appear that different from any other remote woodland. It was Daniel, as always, who made the discovery. “This isn’t right,” he muttered, crouching down and pulling at a vine that seemed too stubborn, too firmly rooted in the earth.

Sofia and Isabella joined him, and within minutes, they’d exposed a curious, moss-covered hatch set into the ground. Eyes wide, they looked at their father.

“Well, this is something,” Marek said, the thrill of discovery evident in his voice. “Let’s open it up, shall we?”

It took the whole family to pry the hatch open, revealing a hidden staircase spiraling into the darkness below. “Creepy,” Isabella breathed, her voice echoing slightly in the earthen space.

A faint, luminescent glow beckoned from the depths, and fueled by a shared sense of adventure, the Allaband family descended into the hidden room. Ancient carvings adorned the stone walls, seeming to depict impossible creatures and landscapes unlike anything they’d seen. And in the center of the room, a shimmering, swirling portal pulsed and hummed.

Daniel, ever the brave one, reached out to touch it. And in an instant, their world went white.

When the light faded, the house was still starkly modern, but the scenery outside had changed. Dense jungle pressed in where manicured lawn had once been, a wild cacophony of sounds replacing the soft hum of suburban life. As they ventured outside, Sofia felt the ground beneath her feet… different. Prehistoric. Primeval.

Eyes wide, they gazed at each other, the question hanging unspoken in the air. And then, in the distance, they saw movement. Humanoid, yet not. Neanderthals. And so, they found themselves on an adventure much greater than a simple new beginning.

Chapter 2: The Portal Between Worlds

The first few days in their prehistoric home were a blur of disbelief and frantic adaptation. The Allaband family clung to the familiarity within their modern abode even as the primeval wilderness called to them from just beyond their windows. Lien, ever the practical one, organized the pantry with military precision, rationing out the snacks they’d bought for the first week in their new home. Marek, driven to understand, disappeared into the hidden room for hours at a time, poring over the ancient texts and puzzling over the mysterious carvings that lined the walls.

The children, always the most adaptable, ventured into the wilds in bursts of energy and curiosity. Sofia and Isabella, despite their initial shock, began to see their predicament as a grand fashion experiment. They scavenged natural dyes and fibers, transforming crude animal hides into outfits that were a unique blend of prehistoric practicality and their distinctive modern sensibilities. Daniel seemed to transform as well, shedding the modern child’s need for constant entertainment. Sticks became magnificent swords, rocks transformed into targets, and the Neanderthal children he met in the nearby forest turned into playmates, their laughter bridging the gap between two worlds.

One evening, as the jungle’s sounds reached a crescendo of chirps and roars, Lien gathered the family in the living room. “We can’t stay cooped up forever,” she insisted, her voice a touch shaky but her eyes firm. “We must learn about this world if we are to survive in it.”

The next morning, armed with a translation app Marek jury-rigged to run offline using the house’s backup power, they hesitantly stepped beyond their front door. Neanderthals milled about a short distance away, engaged in the daily business of their lives. The Allaband family stood frozen, unsure how to proceed. Daniel, as usual, broke the tension. Fueled by the boundless curiosity of a child, he darted forward, letting out a cheerful, “Hello!”

The Neanderthals turned, their expressions mirroring the family’s mix of shock and intrigue. Lien and Marek stepped forward, projecting calm and offering small, non-threatening gestures. The translation app proved surprisingly accurate with some rudimentary greetings. While the finer points of language were lost, the shared smiles and tentative exchanges of food broke the ice.

Day by day, these moments of connection multiplied. Sofia and Isabella’s unusual garments, their hair woven with shells and feathers, turned them into curiosities. Soon, Neanderthal women gathered around them, mimicking their styles, adding an unexpected spark of innovation to their utilitarian clothing. Daniel and his new friends roamed the forests, teaching each other simple games, their joyful shouts carrying back to the house and bringing smiles to the parents who watched.

Marek and Lien were accepted as well. They demonstrated the effectiveness of washing hands before meals, a concept utterly foreign to the Neanderthals yet one that dramatically lowered the incidence of illness in the community. Marek, using his basic carpentry skills, helped create more efficient tools, strengthening their shelters and improving hunting techniques. With each shared endeavor, the gap between the two groups narrowed, respect replacing fear and suspicion.

Sofia, ever observant, noticed the curious glances directed her way by the young Neanderthal men. Having grown accustomed to the modern world’s dating rituals, she saw an opportunity. Surely, with her fashionable flair and a bit of feminine charm, she could easily catch the eye of the most handsome Neanderthal around. Maybe even become a queen of sorts in this ancient society…

Inspired, Sofia meticulously applied the berry juice that served as lipstick. She carefully arranged her hair, strategically placing a bright hibiscus flower behind her ear. With newfound confidence, she strutted toward a group of young men returning from a hunt, a coy smile playing on her lips.

The Neanderthals stopped, their faces mirroring confusion as they took in her appearance. Sofia decided to employ a tactic that had worked with remarkable success back home: a playful hair flip. Unfortunately, the delicate flower went sailing into the bushes with far too much force. The men exchanged glances, a barely concealed smirk creeping across their faces.

Undeterred, Sofia reached out and touched the arm of the tallest Neanderthal. His fur-covered brow scrunched up as he pulled back, as if he’d been stung by a bee. He then pointed to a pile of freshly caught rabbits and grunted something that sounded suspiciously like “cook.”

Humiliation washed over Sofia. Cook? Her, queen of the prehistoric catwalk, relegated to the kitchen? She stalked back to the house, muttering about uncultured brutes. Isabella found her later that evening, braiding Sofia’s hair with gentle hands.

“Maybe,” she offered sympathetically, “seduction isn’t the best way to make friends here. Perhaps try teaching them about…fashion?”

Sofia chuckled, already thinking of colorful patterns she could weave into animal hides. She might not become Neanderthal royalty, but she could still be a pioneer of a different sort. After all, hadn’t she single-handedly brought flower-power to the Stone Age?

Then came the discovery. Hidden within the lower level of the hidden room, beneath a crumbling wall, they’d found an ancient chamber. Inside, crude paintings depicted scenes of chaos and devastation: falling stars, monstrous waves, and the terrified forms of Neanderthals fleeing in despair.

Marek, with his limited grasp of the prehistoric language, spoke to the village elders. It took time, patience, and a healthy dose of pantomime, but the message was chillingly clear: the comet streaking through the night sky heralded not just a marvel, but a catastrophe.

The house, always a haven of normalcy, turned into a place of tense debate that night. “We can’t change the past,” Sofia argued, her voice trembling, “It might have terrible consequences on… on everything.”

Daniel, listening intently, his young face creased with worry, countered, “But they’re our friends, Sofia. Can we just let them…die?”

Lien, silent for so long, finally looked at her husband. “Can we live with ourselves if we do nothing, Marek? Can we?”

And so, the Allabands, a modern family thrown into an impossible situation, made a momentous decision. They wouldn’t just survive; they would use their knowledge and resources, the connection between their worlds, to fight for the future of a people they had only just begun to know.

Chapter 3: A Farewell to Time

With every rumble of thunder that accompanied the comet’s journey across the prehistoric sky, the urgency grew. The Allaband family and their Neanderthal allies were in a race against an immutable force. The village buzzed with an intensity neither Marek nor Lien had ever seen. Guided by Marek’s technical knowledge, crude barriers were raised around the village to redirect the expected floodwaters. Lien showed them how to identify and store medicinal herbs, the stockpile growing by the day. Supplies were rationed, shelters strengthened, and every man, woman, and child played their part.

Fear mingled with the determination, but even more potent was a newfound sense of unity. Sofia and Isabella, usually so concerned with trends and appearances, were now immersed in practicality. They helped fashion crude tools to divert water, their bright laughter a counterpoint to the tension in the air. Daniel and his forest-mates became scouts, their small figures disappearing for hours searching for high ground where people and animals could take refuge.

The night the comet streaked brightest was one no one slept. Marek and the strongest Neanderthal men climbed the sturdiest rock formation they could find, anchoring ropes woven from vines. When the first wave of water came, a surging roar crashing through the jungle, it was met with resistance. Directing the water was a messy feat, the defenses strained beyond capacity, but it saved lives. It was a victory.

But so was the simple act of a Neanderthal child placing her small, grubby hand in Lien’s as they huddled on the cliff, escaping the water below. The shared fear, the relief washing over them when the flood began to recede, transcended language and time. That night, under a sky changed forever, the Allabands belonged.

Yet, their time was finite. The portal flickered, its edges fraying. They had all seen the changes – the way food spoiled more quickly, the way strange glitches would cause their lights to flicker ominously. The passage home was becoming unstable.

Explaining this to their Neanderthal friends was impossible, so instead they said their farewells in other ways. In a great feast, they shared food and laughter, cementing memories to carry with them. Sofia and Isabella gifted their most prized creations, and Daniel wept when he handed his beloved soccer ball over to his closest friend.

Marek, with tears in his eyes, touched the weathered faces of the village elders. “We will remember,” he tried to convey, and in the answering solemn nods, he knew he had been understood.

Back within the safe confines of their home, the portal hummed with urgency. One by one, they stepped through, waving as the shimmering form dissolved around them. They landed, hard, on the cool tiles of their modern living room.

Home. But not really. Sofia missed the earthy smell of the forest, the way the sun warmed her untamed hair. Daniel missed the simple joy of chasing squirrels with his friends. Marek longed for the camaraderie of the village, and Lien…Lien missed the feeling of true purpose.

But the strangest change wasn’t within them; it was around them. Stepping outside, an unnatural silence greeted them. Birdsong, the buzzing of insects, even the far-off barking of dogs – it was all absent. The neighborhood, usually bustling with the sounds of life, felt eerily deserted.

Marek cautiously knocked on their neighbor’s door, but there was no answer. Peering through the windows, he saw no signs of movement or life. Even the cars lining the street seemed to sit abandoned, devoid of the usual clutter of daily existence.

An icy chill ran down Lien’s spine. “Something isn’t right,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The Allaband family huddled together, the normalcy they had craved replaced by an unsettling sense of isolation. Their journey through time had left them irrevocably changed, and now it seemed the world they had left behind had changed as well. The question lingered in the silence: what other surprises awaited them on their return?

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Hours morphed turned into days, and the quiet held their neighborhood in its eerie grip. Wildlife slowly returned – squirrels cautiously skittering on the manicured lawn, the first hesitant notes of birdsong in the trees – yet there was no sign of their human neighbors. The Allabands ventured out with increasing boldness, exploring further, searching for answers. Each abandoned house, each empty park, only deepened the mystery.

“We have to try the grocery store,” Lien insisted one morning. “We can’t live on snacks forever.”

With trepidation, they piled into their car, a relic of their old life now tinged with unfamiliarity. The streets that were once a vibrant thrum of activity stretched out emptily. The grocery store, usually overflowing with shoppers, stood starkly silent.

Inside, a scene out of a nightmare awaited them. Rotting produce littered the aisles, shelves were toppled in disarray, and a strange, musky odor clung to the air. As they moved deeper into the store, they heard it: the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps, grunts, and the scrape of something against the floor.

Peeking around a corner, they froze. It was no longer the world they knew. Hulking figures, unmistakably Neanderthal in form, yet horribly distorted, moved amidst the wreckage. Their skin hung loose, their eyes unfocused, their once-familiar movements now monstrous. And then they saw the Allabands.

With a roar, the mutated Neanderthals lunged after them. Blind panic fueled their flight, dodging through aisles, knocking over displays in their desperation to escape. They reached their car, fumbling with keys, hearts pounding in unison. Just as they wrenched the doors open, something slammed into the car’s side, sending it rocking dangerously. They were dragged out, screaming into the silent night.

Sterile lights. Cold metal tables. The Allabands were prisoners now, their incredible journey reduced to a series of tests and interrogations. They were prodded and examined, their pleas for answers met with a chilling silence.

One night, as Sofia lay strapped to a table, a figure emerged from the shadows. A lean man in a crisp suit, his eyes sharp beneath wire-rimmed glasses. He spoke of the unforeseen consequences of their actions, the mutations rippling through the timeline. But his voice faded, replaced by the growing panic in Sofia’s chest. The needle plunged into her arm, the metallic tang of fear in her throat.

Screams echoed down the sterile hallway, a chilling counterpoint to the soft hum of the machines. Sofia’s vision swam, the harsh light blurring. As darkness crept at the edges, one question lingered – were they prisoners, or guardians of a world they had unwittingly changed?