Go to the apartment down the hall. There's a mechanical engineering student you know who lives there.

She stared blankly at the open box before her for a moment, trying to make sense of its purpose.  She glanced at the shredded packing slip on the box and wondered if she could piece it together, then she looked more closely at the box itself, hoping some clues might jump out at her, but the box was as ordinary as any other she had ever seen.  Damn.  She pulled the papers from the box and tried her best to decipher them, but it was so much gobbledygook in her hands that she frowned and shook her head and returned the papers back into the box.

This was weird.  Where had this box come from?  Why had it been delivered to her?  Was she even the intended recipient?  Because from her perspective she was the proud owner of a box of junk and a strange X-box Guitar Hero thing.  Maybe she was missing something.  She carefully dumped the box onto the floor and carefully sorted through everything, but after ten minutes of inspection she had no better inclination as to why this box had been sent to her, or by whom.  Growing frustrated, she repacked everything and folded the box closed, grabbed her keys, and walked to the front door.  She entered the hall and closed the door behind her and, while holding the box against her hip, locked up.

She had an idea.  It wasn't much of an idea, but it was all she had.  Whatever the contents of that box, it was over her head.  She thought she might show it to someone with a little more brain power than she.  The only person fitting that description was the engineering student who lived down the hall, Kelsey Isringhausen.

She clutched the box like a running back as she approached the door, paused to listen for signs of occupancy inside, then hearing none, knocked anyway.

There was no response.  Maybe Kelsey was at class.  Probably not.  It was more likely she was getting baked with some of her friends.

The End

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