The First Box

Your eye is instantly drawn to the gold lock that is neatly attached to the more shabby exterior of the first box.

You take it out of the drawer, placing it on the desk next to the telephone.

The leather is soft to the touch, but seems quite cool against your skin. Holding your hand over the drawer, you feel that it is also fairly cool; it seems a light breeze is coming from the back of drawer, but you pay it no attention.

You have far more pressing matters to concern yourself with now. Like your decision on whether or not your choice of box will prove to be fatal or not.

You find that your gaze is attracted once more to the shine reflecting from the single lightbulb overhead onto the golden lock of the small square box.

It suddenly occurs to you... What happens if I simply don't open a box?

You glance back to the door you used to come in, and walking over to it, find that it is locked. Of course it is.

You pick up the key intended for the boxes and try it on the door. It unfortunately does not unlock the door.

So, it seems that the only way out is to open one of the boxes.

You decide to remain faithful to your original choice, and, sliding the key into the keyhole, you give it a gentle turn to the right, and the lid pops open slightly.

It is only ajar, and so you cannot see inside without fully opening the lid. However, you are now reluctant to see what's inside. Maybe the lifting of the lid will cause gas to fill the room. Or maybe it will cause the door to open behind you, providing an escape.

You are unable to decide. Torn between danger and ... well, admittedly less danger, but no doubt still an unpleasant experience.

You take one last look at the other two boxes; the small treasure chest looks equally as appealing as the first box had, as does the small package that lies to the right of it.

Placing your hand on the lid of the box, you lift it slowly, anxious to what might happen, but no doubt reluctant to be killed in the process.

The box opens creakily, slowly, as if it has not been opened in years.

As you fully open the box, you look to see if there is anything of interest inside, or whether this box will prove to be the death of you.

Inside lies what appears to be a very old piece of paper. Maybe this is the box that can save you after all!

Your heart leaps, and so you quickly reach for the small piece of paper, whuch can only be a few inches by a few inches.

As your hand connects with the crinkled paper, you blink.

Or at least that's what you originally think. As you try desperately to open your eyes again, you find that they already are open, but the room lies shrouded in darkness.

Oh my God, what the hell is going on?!

You remain quiet for several moments, and you almost jump out of your skin when the phone begins to ring once more.

You stub your toe trying to get to the table again, and feeling around, you find the phone in the dark, and answer it.

'Wrong box.' The voice cackles, coughs, and then the dull dialing tone is all that can be heard.

'Oh my God.' You say it out loud now, not knowing what comes next...

You still hold the paper in your hand, and without knowing what you're doing, you place it back in its box, as something brushes against your leg.

'What the hell is this?!' You scream in the hope of somebody, your watchers, hearing you.

The breeze you had originally felt has increased slightly, and as you feel something brush against your leg once more, you feel that it is not something alive as you had feared. It feels like...

The sound of running water grows louder, and you realise that the room is slowly and surely filling with icey cold water, and you will no doubt be dead within minutes.

The water quickly reaches your ankles, and so you once again run through any escape options in your head...

The End

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