An older Fictional Creation

Picture this. I will now set up a conventional image for you.

There is a man sitting on a beautiful white beach, and the sun is shining. This man is not myself. You are looking at him from his right hand side, from a little way down the beach. He is sitting up, about halfway up the beach. His hands are pushed out behind him, keeping him propped up, with his legs spread out in front of him. There is a treeline behind him, curving around towards a cliff in the distance at the end of the beach. It is windy, and the man's hair is being blown about. The ocean is not calm, but not menacing. 

The beach is deserted. He is looking out onto the ocean, with a contented smile upon his face.

Now you are looking over his right shoulder. You do not cast a shadow, because you are simply being guided by my narration, and hence do not exist in the physical world that is being created here. The man is still contented and pondering. To the right of the man's right thigh, you begin to see a small patch of red, just underneath the sand. It is a deep red.

The patch begins to expand, and moves beneath the sand, without touching the sand, or moving it. It continues to expand.

You are now looking down on the man from the front. He is looking through you. There is now a constant and noticeable increase in the deep red ebbing below the sand. The man is unaware of the movement. 

We return down the beach to our original position. There is a band of red along the beach underneath where the man is sitting, and it is waving and expanding outwards in no particular manner. It is casual, and nonchalant. 

The man finally notices the ever expanding expanse of red beneath him. The sand does not feel any different. When it is picked up, it is still blond. There is no extra heat, there is no extra moisture in it. It is simply, red. The man stands up and looks at the sand with a mild panic. He watches as the red expands faster and faster. He stands stupified, as the entire beach has now been coloured red. The red continues into the bases of the trees and shrubs within the treeline. The waters and soil become tinted.

A few moment pass... (for dramatic effect).

He picks up yet another handful of sand, and it is now red. The texture of the sand has changed. It is no longer coarse, it is much finer. Somewhat slippery. He sinks a little within it, but not greatly.

The ground to his immediate left begins to shake. We observe this from the point directly above the point of increased movement. Beneath the newly formed island of red, there begins to emerge a square of jet black. The sand becomes pushed up around the emerging edifice. 

It breaks through the sand.

It is a square black box. Perfectly smooth. It shakes off all sand that clings to it. It repels the sand. It emerges from the sand and is the height of the man's knee, when standing. The vibration ceases, and the unnatural object rests in equilibrium on the sand. 

The man continues to be stupified.
As is the box.