Suddenly you hear a sound from the basement. A single thud. You want to investigate. A little bit nervous that there might be an intruder, you grab a baseball bat from your room. Soon you're sneaking down the dimly lit stairs as quietly as you can, and you can't help but wince at every creak the old wood makes. The lower you go the darker it gets, until a slight light shines through from the cracked open door at the bottom. Your heart beats faster and faster as you descend. Why are you so nervous? It's probably nothing, but your heart is now pounding in your chest. Finally, you reach the bottom step. You peak in through the crack and see nothing but the light...but wait, there is no light bulb in the part of the room that the light is coming from, as far as you recall. What is that odd light? It has a warm yellow glow that seems almost to glitter as it shines through the crack, yet it seems somehow unnatural.
You want to turn back. You don't know why, but some part of you wants to get far, far away from here. What nonsense is that though? It's crazy. No, you can't wimp out over nothing like this.
You fling open the door, brandishing your baseball bat and stifling a scream as you do so. Wide-eyed you look around the room, but there's nothing. Wait, where's the light? It's gone, leaving only the gentle morning sunlight trickling through one tiny window to light your surroundings.
Then you see it. In the dead center of the room, lying on a strangely dust-free rectangle of the ground, is a box. You've never seen it before, but you somehow know that it's not that your parents left it there either. This box does not belong. It is black, with some sort of golden glitter in it, and perhaps two or three times the size of a shoe box. It has a simple red ribbon around it. On top of it is an envelope.
Seeing no intruders, you set the bat aside, but your breathing only quickens as you approach the box. You nearly leap out of your skin when you hear the door slam shut, but that door always did that due to the way it was hung. It was nothing supernatural.
Your fingers graze the box as you pick up the envelope, and it sends an electric tingle through you that leaves all your hairs standing on end. Despite all efforts to reason it away, some part of you believes now: this box is magic, and dangerous magic. Yet you're growing to be as excited as you are afraid. Something in it calls to you.
The envelope triggers no such feelings, but you open it first anyway. Inside is a letter written on what LOOKS like one-hundred year old paper, in elaborate calligraphy with a fountain pen. You read:
"Dear David, you have been selected to receive one Box of Mischief. Inside is the box is another gift, but let us offer you two warnings: First, be forewarned that the box itself has a mind of its own, and what it is capable of is not entirely known even to us. Second, know that should you choose to break the seal and open this box it will change your life forever. There is potential for enormous good to enter your life, but also for great chaos. We really can't say what will happen, and truly anything could.
In honesty, we are a bit jealous that you've been selected for this honor. It's not every day, or indeed every millennium, that someone receives a box like this, but let us be clear that this box could very well kill you. It is one of the most dangerous magical artifacts in existence. So do make your choice carefully. Should you choose not to open then simply leave the room and it will vanish as quickly as it appeared, never to trouble you again.
At your service,
The brothers Grey."
And that was it. You shake your head. It was crazy, but it had to be real. You look at the box again, and fear fills you. You can feel its power, wild and uncontrollable, and it feels like being a room with an angry lion. No. No way. Hella no way. You stood and rapidly made your way to the door. Throwing down the letter. You're almost there when suddenly the letter flies in front of your face. It hangs there floating, and then it flips over to reveal the back:
"Are you really going to run, David? Oh it's perfectly understandable to do so. Perfectly sane, perfectly reasonable...and perfectly cowardly. Now it's not the worst thing to be a coward. Better than being dead. But if you walk out that door you will have to spend the rest of your life wondering what was in that box, what could have been, what new life you might have lived. But go ahead David, don't let us stop you. Go have a nice safe life as a paper pusher or whatever else suits you."
And at that, the letter disintegrated. You clench your fist in anger. Assholes. Would you let them goad you? You look back at the box for a moment...but no! No, you'd made up your mind and damn it all if a couple of assholes were going to play you like that. What did they know? Nothing. Nothing at all. You take a deep breath, and look towards the window. The birds have begun chirping. A warm spring morning calls to you outside. It's probably beautiful out there. A normal life is not a bad thing.
You nod. You've made up your mind, and found peace with it. Nothing left to do now but step through that door. You take another step and your hand reaches for the doorknob. Almost there. All you have to do is open that door and walk through and this will all be behind you.
But it's there. You know it's there behind you. The box. It's watching you. It might as well have eyes for you to feel upon your back...and it might as well have a ringing voice, for no siren song could call you any louder than it is calling to you now. You want it. You know it will bring danger and chaos to your life, but you want it anyway. Your hand wavers, inches forward, wavers. Your fingers graze the doorknob.
But then you turn around. You don't know if you've gone mad. You're hardly thinking at all. You just fly towards the box in a fervor. Then you're kneeling before it again. You slow down in anticipation, but you aren't stopping. As you touch the ribbon you feel the electric tingle again, and you realize that from the moment you first felt that it became inevitable that you would open it. You pull on the ribbon. Silence. The birds stop chirping. The air conditioner stops humming. Even the white noise of your ears stops. It was as if all of creation was holding its breath in anticipation, or in terror.
You pull, and it comes undone. You open the box.