I always found solace in the strange and unsual. A purveyor of the occult is what used to hang outside my shop window, the old wooden sign was made out of the wreck of the infamous ship, The Tempest. A small ship of 12 souls, all lost to the sea.. or something else depending on which of the rumours you’d choose to believe. The only piece of the ship that was found now hung above my shop. Its cargo was lost, stolen or perhaps destroyed, with the exception of one, the one item that has cursed me for all eternity. Unknown in origin and name – the tales were always the same though, it contained something more powerful than the human mind could comprehend.
It took years of searching, asking questions and doing favours for the most despicable of characters but it had all paid off but I realise it was to my own detriment. A most peculiar man entered my shop one afternoon in the midst of a thunderstorm. He showed no emotions and had the look of someone that didn’t even realise they were drenched head to toe in rain. I don’t remember much of his face other than his eyes, black as dolls eyes, it was as if I was looking into the void, and yet I dare not look away. He produced the small box and set it down. “You seek, now you have found“. I was too transfixed to notice that the man had vanished from the shop. Was he even there?
I closed shop and sat alone for what felt like years looking at the box, staring at it’s intricate carvings and markings, almost staring into the box but doing this sent a shiver down my spine, what the box staring into.. me? I was eager, perhaps too eager to uncover the secrets that remained hidden inside the box. Each twist of the mechanism brought both hope and dread, as my fingers moved across the grooves and notches, I felt a surge of electricity course through my veins but with excitement came fear, and the fear became a reality when a voice called out from the void. “Help me”
I froze in terror, it was just me in this room, wasn’t it? My head remained still but my eyes frantically searched around me. Empty. I continued with the mechanisms, the voices grew louder and angrier but I remained determined. After more twists and turns the box made a horrible hissing sound and I withdrew my hand in shock. Blood ran down my palm and I looked in shock at the small blade that had protruded from the box. I felt sick then darkness.
I am trapped in this room, the door has gone and the window is permanent darkness. I thought I was dead but it turns to be much worse, I am stuck in the void of the box and what haunts me the most is that I am not alone. Something or someone traded places with me but something worse resides in the box and tortures me daily, stripping the flesh from my bones and stitches me back together.
Please, just kill me.