The Blue Box - By Tadhg

Instructions

The Blue Box ---------------- A quaint and faded blue box sat atop a dusty shelf. A fragile lock kept it closed, for how long no one really knew. Passersby paid no attention to the box, its insignificance did not pose any real interest to most. The shop it resided in had wonders galore. Bones littered countertops, oddly shaped slices of stone and wood surrounded shelves, candles lit in nearly every corner. The sun barely peered in through the windows, so artificial light was needed to illuminate the curiosities. One day, a peculiar man walked into the shop. His hand lightly grazed upon smooth crystals, and his eyes gazed past the odd taxidermies that lined the walls. After an unknown amount of time, the man found his interest piqued by a mere blue box. It sat at eye level, so he took a moment to really digest the details. There were odd carvings on the box, it seemed to almost look like the ancient Egyptians hieroglyphics, but something was off. They seemed to tell a story, but one that was not able to be deciphered unless you knew more about it. This intrigued the man. The thought of discovering new filled him with a sort of exhilaration that has been long missing in his life. He picked up the blue box and took it to the counter, where he purchased it for a measly ¢25. After handing the coins over, a sigh of relief came from the one behind the counter, and a sense of dread filled the man. Yet he had no explicable reason for this, so he continued with his day. Upon arriving home later that night, the man figured he would simply be able to break the lock off, it seemed brittle enough that not much would be required to open it. First, he gently tried to pull the lock out of its socket, which proved more difficult than he intended, but nonetheless, he recalled where his tool box was and went to fetch it. Once he found it, he scanned the box for something that seemed like it could do the job. He eventually found himself holding a pair of thick wire cutters and clamped them onto the lock. He thought for a moment, he did not want to damage the box or the contents inside. After much deliberation, and waiting until he had a very steady hand he pressed the cutters shut, and the lock squished under the pressure. Not in a way a lock should break, instead of snapping, it shriveled away into a dust that could not even be recognized as once a lock. The man sat feeling proud of his work, and stared at the box. Behind where the lock was, there was another layer of protection to get inside: a key hole. He felt dejected, the shop had not given him a key, and there was no way he was travelling back at this time of night to ask them. Instead of waiting, he grabbed a ring of keys he had collected over the years and organized them into piles of least and most likely to work for the box. The keys, larger than the box themselves, were put away to the side. But after a few minutes of organizing, he had a pile of five keys to test with the box. When trying the first key, it felt nearly impossible to even put into the key hole. This happened with the second, third, and fourth keys as well. When he finally arrived at the fourth key, it went in. He celebrated, thrilled that he was even closer. But when he tried to turn the key, it felt like pushing back, it felt like something did not want him to reveal the contents of the box. With much struggle, he pulled the key out and tried the final key. He inserted the fifth and final key, it went in, he took a deep breath and turned the key. On the floor keys had scattered, papers fallen off of a desk that seemed to signify there was a sort of struggle, and a small, quaint, and dusty blue box sat on the floor. Its shiny lock reappeared, taunting the next person who comes along.