The Box

January 19, 2018
The dead girl was lying in the middle of the dark cell inside of her bones was a key, she now knew the answer. She wasn’t the key as everyone thought. She just didn’t know and in life had wished that people would stop trying to get her for being the key. By the time she was sixteen she had been kidnapped a couple times but that didn’t matter to her what mattered was that this time they actually had the answer. A large box that had a tiny keyhole. She returned to her cell and killed herself. She was sick of people wanting her as the key when it was obviously an actual key. So now she was lying facedown on the ground the bone key inside one of her ribs where her parents had placed it when she was just born.
The serving boy was found dead slouched on his bed with broken glass surrounding him. When the poor serving boy had walked into the key’s room, his only job being to cater to the key’s needs, now found his only job was dead on the floor in front of him. This job was the only thing keeping him from the box. The box that every time you tried to open it without the key it killed another person and would only shed one layer. They had just reassembled all the fallen layers back onto the box so the key could fit. Now the key was dead. Staring at the girl in front of him he watched his entire life of 19 years flash by. He walked out of the room and down the corridor to his room where he kept his belonging including a bottle of tylenol. Filled a glass of water and downed the entire bottle. He found the answer.
The box sat alone in its brightly lit room waiting for the key. It had waited for 17 years. It had been promised. It had seen the key and got excited but the stupid host had just threw a fit and walked away. The box didn’t know how to tell people the only way to the key was cutting open and maybe even killing the girl. So it killed others to get its point across. After all it held the most important answer. The answer to whatever question truly plagued you. Every answer was different. That is why every death and every layer was different. So the box waited

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