KARENA DRAYTON - DARK BOX

Karena Drayton is an aspiring freelance fiction writer who works with indie game developers to assist in creating narrative stories and is currently working on her bachelor’s degree in fine arts.
 
Karena has been a creative consultant on an upcoming indie title assisting in worldbuilding and the inception of that world’s religion.  She also writes flash fiction and short stories for fun.
 
Originally from Las Vegas, Nevada, Karena currently resides in South Carolina with her two kids and significant other.

Dark Box
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​A ring at the doorbell woke me up from my sleep, annoyance already coming over my already sleepy brain.
 
“Go away,” I groaned into my pillow as I turned over, ignoring the jerk interrupting my sleep.
 
The bell rang again, the button held down much longer this time. Absolutely determined to get me out of my bed. After throwing a temper tantrum in my bed, I get up and grab my robe as I head downstairs to answer the door.  I looked out the peephole; or course no one was there.
 
“Damn kids,” I mutter to myself while heading upstairs.
 
I only made it halfway when there was a slow, hard knock at the door stopping me in my tracks. I sped back toward the door, switched the light on and open the door with a tired fury. Again, there wasn’t anyone there. Instead, there was a box, small and fragile looking.  I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It captivated me. I rush and grabbed the box, locking the door behind me. I rushed to the living room, sitting down on the couch with the box in my hands. It was beautiful: gold with intricate designs carved all around it, with foreign lettering along the sides. I traced my fingers along the sides, looking for a way to open it when a hand shot out from next to me, keeping my hand still and denying me.
 
“Before you do that,” a voice began, “be certain this is something your heart truly desires.”
 
I followed the arm with my eyes to find a figure sitting beside me with no face. It had a body and a head, but when it came to the face, it was blank.
 
The voice continued, “you summoned me here with your silent cries of despair. I am here to give you what you truly desire.”
 
“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I stammered.
 
“I believe you do.”
 
Images began to flow into my head. Crying myself to sleep at night. Being ignored by everyone. Husband absent at night while I stay awake waiting. Childhood memories of hurt. Dragging the kn-
 
My voice trembled, “Stop it!”
 
But the voice continued, “yes. I’ve watched you for years writhing in your agony; waiting for sweet release. Here I am giving it to you. There is a price however.”
 
I scoffed, “Obviously. Not that I am actually considering this bullshit, but let’s say that this is going to be as easy as it sounds. What’s the price?”
 
The figure grew silent. A heavy, foreboding silence. The figure raised his hands in the air, gesturing the room around him.
 
“Everything. This house. Your Family and friends. Everything that you have an attachment to; I want it all, to do with as I please. Will I harm them? Help? Or maybe just leave them be, always wondering where you are?”
 
“You’re kidding me.”
 
“I am not,” he said flatly. The figure proceeds to place his hand on top of my grip on the box. Soft tendrils of smoke run up my arm and into my eyes.
 
A gasp escapes my lips as a feeling of euphoria washed over me. I haven’t felt this happy, this alive in years! A hysterical, and slightly off-putting laugh escapes my lips, but the feeling fades away just as quickly when the creature removes his hand.
 
He slowly rises from his seat to stand in front of my, hand held out gesturing to the box, “you can have that and much more for as long as you live. A feeling of wholeness that everyone else around you spend their miniscule lifespans chasing and never seeing come to fruition. I give that to you now.”
 
Twirling the box in my fingers, I almost whisper, “What kind of person would that make me?”
 
A tear falls down my cheek, punctuating my question.
 
Something sounding like a laugh escapes the form as he responds, “human. Simply human.”
 
I hold my hand out, prompting this thing to give me some space as I stand up. Tears blur my vision as I take in this creature’s words. Desperation overflowed from me like lava: slow, thick and heavy. I nod. Although the guilt I felt in that moment was unbearable, it’d be worth it. My shaking hand ran its fingers along the sides of the box. Click.
 
“Mom?” I heard a familiar voice say. I see my child standing in the hallway; scared.
 
 I vanish.