It seemed to be a casual day, Monday like any other, until I opened the door and saw an ancient wooden chest just on my front door. Needless to say, I found the package immensely puzzling, and despite my best intentions could not resist bringing it into my home. I was strongly aware of the fact that I was not expecting a package on that Monday, nay, I was never expecting a package like that beautiful, wooden chest, but I could not just leave it on my doorstep! Oh no, if I had left it, some accursed vagabond would surely steal it, and either destroy its intricate inscriptions or pawn it for a few shillings. No, It was surely better for the package to be brought into my home.
I sat in my armchair, sip on my coffee and stared at the chest. It was mesmerising, its beauty greater than anything I had ever seen in my life. I peered at the inscriptions on it; evidently an ancient language, possibly a dialect of aramaic. I took out my magnifier and set down to rewrite the text onto paper, so as to easier translate. I did not finish an undergraduate degree in ancient languages for nothing after all. After an hour or so, I had the full script translated. ‘The way to life is through death - learn to catch up with life’. Over and over again, the sentence was repeated, a total of 48 times.
The chests clasp was golden, from what I could tell, pure golden. The lock was a tubular pin tumbler lock, with a star shaped keyhole. I whipped out my lockpicking set. To heck with my work, to heck with the world! This is what I lived for! Mystery, intrigue, ancient stories yet to be uncovered. This is why I chose to study archeology and anthropology for my PhD, this is why I moved to louisiana. The thrill is what I live for, what I seek every single day. I slaved over the chest for another two hours or so, till around midday, before I finally broke the lock. I lifted the lid of the heavy wooden chest (most probably oak based) and peered into it.
The moment I opened the box, a whisper escaped, and inside I saw Nothing. A thick, pitch-black, beautiful, mesmerising Nothing. I could not pull myself from the Nothing. It swallowed me whole, became me, and I it.
I was Nothing and I was in the Nothing. I could not feel the passage of time, it did not exist to me. All there was was Nothing. And suddenly there was a Voice. 'The way to life is through death', it hissed into my ear. 'a death for life'. And out of nowhere there was Something, Everything. There was a blinding light, and then red. I knew who I was again, I was myself, a Something. And my hands were blood-covered, the room was covered in red. I was wading in blood, someone else's blood. I took a look down, and at my feet was a warm body, 30 years old, female. In my hand was a dagger. The murder weapon, undoubtedly. I had murdered someone. I had stolen the most precious of all gifts - the gift of life. And yet the remainder of the Nothing inside of me was pleased. 'good', it said. 'A life for a life. Hers for ours. Catch up with us'. I ran.
I don't see the decision to run as an act of cowardice - more… self preservation. I had so much more to give to the world, and I knew that from behind the bars of a prison cell I could not change the world. So I ran. As fast as my legs would carry me. I jumped into the river and swam from one end to the other to wash the blood off myself. Lucky me, I must admit, as the water in Louisiana is much warmer than the lakes I swam in in the winter back in York county. I got out and kept running. Lucky me, again, as I was York county's national triathlon champion, winning first place every season while I lived there. I got to my house, mainly dry from the summer air and turned on the lights. I only then realised it was night-time. Strange, as the last I remembered was midday. I carefully cleaned the dagger of any residue and placed it in a plastic bag, hiding it in the vault behind the landscape painting over my mantelpiece.
I did not understand. I did not know why I was given the accursed, yet mesmerizingly beautiful chest. The universe works in mysterious ways, and the regular human being cannot possibly hope to understand them. But now I know. I know what the box was, what I unleashed unto the world when I opened it. It took me decades of studies and research. I uncovered ancient civilizations and arcane knowledge that in times of old only prophets would attain. I understood that I had unleashed hell upon the earth. That chest was my Pandora's box, and the sacrifice demanded, the necessary exchange for the life of the eldritch terrors that it held.
That is my testimony, officer. You may put your case to rest, at last. It only took me 80 years.
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