Box of Evil

In the vast tapestry of existence, there's a thread that dances between the known and the unknown. 
 
 Thirty-two-year-old Bradley, embarking on a new chapter in his gleaming condo, anticipates a future filled with promise. 
 
 Yet, shadows from bygone times find their way in, courtesy of Katie, his devoted girlfriend. 
 
She presents him with an antique chestnut box, plucked from the web's obscure corners. 

Its intricate drawers, each more beguiling than the last, pull them into a maelstrom of mysteries. 

Intended as a loving gesture, the box evolves into a conundrum, distorting reality and unveiling latent fears. 

As they delve deeper into its enigmas, the duo confronts questions about the past, love, and the limits of understanding. 

But with each revelation, they inch closer to a threshold few have crossed, teetering on the edge of that haunting Doorway to Darkness.

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Transcript

Welcome to Doorway to Darkness. Horror Stories by Casey Burrin. Narrated by the Night Creeper. Please Follow or subscribe on your podcast app of choice. 

Bradley sucked the blood off his thumb, tasting a combination of salt and iron that welled up from a cut by an antique chestnut box.

“I’m so sorry!” said Katie, Bradley’s 25-year-old girlfriend, who was lifting the wooden box in the air, looking for the sharp edge. “I don’t know how that happened.” 

Bradley eyeballed the box, noting its dark, sinuous scrollwork and intricate design that danced over its surface. 

Its age appeared evident with the rich, deep hues of wood that had mellowed over time. 

Each motif, curl, and pattern interlocked with the next, creating a mesmerizing tapestry. 

“Put it down on the table,” Bradley said. “It’s not that bad. My thumb. It’s not bleeding as much anymore.”

Bradley looked around his living room, searching for a tissue to wrap his finger in. From the coffee table that sat before him, he snatched a cocktail napkin, a remnant of a party the night before. 

“I didn’t mean to shove it at you,” Katie said. “It’s your housewarming gift for moving into your new condo here on the beach. I thought it would look great in your living room by the front window, where you can look out on sand and water. I don’t understand how the box cut you.”

“I don’t even know what this is,” Bradley said, holding the box in the air. “It’s heavier than it looks.”

“Oh, you! I thought it was perfect for you, so masculine, so rustic,” Katie said. “Just look at it. When I saw it, I thought of you.” 

When Katie grabbed it back from him and placed it on the table, Bradley noted her cracked nail polish that the girl at his work never seemed to have. 

Her nails were always perfectly polished, as they should be in Bradley’s estimation. 

“Don’t you love it?” Katie said. 

“Thanks,” he said. “It’s a box.”

“Not just any box,” Katie said. “I bought it from a collector on the internet. It’s a total antique. It also has hidden compartments.” 

“And I look like the kinda guy who’d like antique?” Bradley said. 

“It’s a box within a box within a box within a box,” Katie said. “Who knows how many boxes are in here?”  

“It looks like it’s just one,” Bradley said. 

“Open it up!” Katie said.  

Bradley lifted the bronze latch. He peered inside to see a labyrinth of etched wood that appeared to lead to smaller compartments. 

“See, look,” Katie said. “Here’s a compartment.” 

She grasped onto what looked like a tiny doorknob on the side of the box. 

“It looks like a simple decoration, but it’s a doorknob,” Katie said.  

Katie pulled the knob, revealing a secret place within it. 

“And here,” she said as she pushed on what seemed to be just a panel but revealed another compartment. “It looks like it’s part of the box, but when you push on it, you see a drawer hiding here.” 

“What’s in here?” Bradley said. “It looks like a keyhole.” 

“It didn’t come with a key,” Katie said. “Just the box.” 

“Look here,” Bradly said, pointing to a side panel. “That appears locked. But there shouldn’t be a compartment here because there’s another compartment over there, and that’s simply not possible. It’s a perfect maze.” 

“You can hide whatever you want in here,” Katie said. “No one will know.” 

“Firstly, you will know the box is a hiding place, so it’s not much of a hiding place,” Bradley said. “Secondly, people can pick it up and leave. It’s not that heavy.”

“Do you love it?” Katie said. 

“It looks old,” Bradley said. “How old do you think it is? Maybe it’s worth something.” 

“Got character is what it’s got,” Katie said. “I got it for you. Because like you, the box is one of a kind.” 

Katie hugged him as he watched another woman stroll past the window. She looked like Katie but a little taller, by maybe two inches. If only Katie was a little taller, Bradley thought.

“What’s wrong?” Katie said. “You seem distracted. Don’t you like your gift?” 

“I appreciate the thought,” Bradley said. “I’ll have to find a place for it.” 

“Any place will do in this home,” Katie said.  “You’re so blessed.”

“I wanted a two-bedroom for my office, but this will do,” Bradley said.  

“Are you kidding me?” Katie said. “This is the best condo ever. Most people can’t even get near the beach. You’re on the beach. If you’re not thrilled with this place, you’ll never be happy about anything.” 

Bradley looked down at his cut thumb, which had stopped bleeding. 

On his favorite cotton blend trousers, he spotted a perfectly round drop of blood, stained into the fabric.

The next day, Bradley stumbled out of his bedroom after waking from a night’s sleep. Making his way toward the kitchen, he nearly tripped over the box. 

“Geez, a surprise obstacle course,” he said as he caught his footing. 

Bradley stared at the box on the floor about 10 feet away from the counter where he’d left it the night before. 

“How did you get here on the floor?” Bradley said. 

He glanced at the table and then back at the floor. He looked around the room, trying to figure out how the box he’d left on the table had found its way onto the floor and across the room.

“How?” Bradley said. “What does it matter?”  

Bradley pulled the box up from the floor with both arms, noting it seemed much heavier and had a more blackish-brown color than a chestnut hue. 

“I’ve got a chameleon box,” Bradley said to himself. “I thought it was a brown box. But now it’s blacker today. Maybe my eyes are going.”

Bradley noticed writing on the bottom of the box as he inspected the box to see if it was damaged. It looked like a name carved into the wood.

“Henri Charles Lavender,” Bradley said. “Huh, whoever that is.”

As he placed the box back onto the counter, its edge caught his thumb, slicing into the skin, again reopening the wound. 

About an hour later, Bradley arrived at the office before anyone else, as a matter of course. As he thumbed through a file, Katie rang his cell phone.

“Hey, I’m at work,” Bradley said. “You know I can’t talk that much. I got like a minute. Go!” 

“I need the box back,” Katie said.  

“Done,” Bradley said. “Talk to you later.” 

“The person who bought it needs it back,” Katie said. “She said she shouldn’t have sold it in the first place.” 

“Got it,” Bradley said. “Pick it up when you stop by tonight. Talk later.”

“I don’t just get a refund,” Katie said. “She’s paying me double. Isn’t that amazing? OK, talk to you later.”

“Whoa, wait!” Bradley said. “What did you say? Tell me again.” 

“I need the box back,” Katie said. 

“No, the other part,” Bradley said. 

“She said she shouldn’t have sold it to me?” Katie said. 

“Other part,” Bradley said. 

“She’s paying me double?” Katie said.

“Why would she do that?” Bradley said. “Think about it.”

“Out of convenience to me, I guess,” Katie said. 

“No way,” Bradley said. “You don’t see it, do you?”

“At first, I told her I couldn’t possibly send the box back as I‘d already given it to you as a gift,” Katie said. “She felt bad and then made a counteroffer.”

“Nope, that’s not it,” Bradley said.  

“It’s rude to ask for a gift back,” Katie said. “She just wants to compensate me.”

“Still, not right,” Bradley said. “How much is that box worth?”

“Not much. It’s old,” Katie said. “I just liked it and thought you would too. For your new condo on the beach.”

“She made a mistake,” Bradley said. “A big mistake.”

“I know I told you,” Katie said. 

“She’s not telling us the truth,” Bradley said. “She is hiding it.” 

“I don’t think so,” Katie said. “I didn’t get that impression.”

“I’m not sending the box back,” Bradley said.  

“You don’t even like it that much,” Katie said. “I can tell.”

“I like it more now,” Bradley said. “Now that somebody wants it so badly, they will pay double for it.”

“It’s got a dead person in it,” Katie said.  

Bradley sat up in his chair and scanned his barren office. He pursed his lips, which suddenly felt dry.

“Hello?” Katie said. “You there?” 

“Dead?” Bradley said. 

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Katie said. 

“Dead?” Bradley said. “Did you say dead?”

“Dead. As in not alive,” Katie said. “As in no longer with us. As in passed on.” 

“How do you fit a dead body in a box that size?” Bradley said.  

“It fits if it’s cremated,” Katie said.  

Upon hearing Katie’s explanation, Bradley sat back in his chair, allowing it to take his full weight as he swiveled back and forth.

“Oh,  you mean dead body, as in cremated,” Bradley said. “It’s like a fancy urn. I get it. And guess what? I know whose box it is too?”

“How do you know who’s in the box?” Katie said. 

“Henri Charles Lavender,” Bradley said. 

“Whose that?” Katie said. 

“The guy who’s in the box. I just told you,” Bradley said. “That name was etched on the bottom of the box. I found it this morning when I was putting it away.”

“I don’t care who it is. It shouldn’t have ever been sold,” Katie said. “Now you see. I didn’t want to say because I feel badly I gave it to you. We have to send it back. I’m so sorry. I will get you something better.” 

“We are not sending it back,” Bradley said. “Not yet, at least.” 

“We have to. I promised,” Katie said. “Besides, who wants a box with a dead person inside? There are probably dozens of hidden compartments in that box. We’ll never find it. You said it looks like there’s a key to some of the compartments. Just send it back.” 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Bradley said.  

“Obviously not,” Katie said. “What are you planning?” 

“She wants the box back for one reason,” Bradley said. 

“Because she wants her dead relative’s ashes back again?” Katie said. 

“Guess again,” Bradley said. 

“She likes paying twice as much as she sold it for?” Katie said. 

“Come on, Katie!” Bradley said. “Think!”

“Why don’t you just tell me,” Katie said. 

“It’s worth more than she’s saying,” Bradley said. “A lot more.”

“I didn’t get that impression,” Katie said.  

“Of course not,” Bradley said. “She’s not going to tell you that. She sold it accidentally and then realized she had sold an item worth far more. I’m not falling for the cremation story.” 

“I think she’s telling the truth,” Katie said.  

“Why pay double for it?” Bradley said. “Why not say, can’t you send it back? That’s a tell. I bet it’s worth a lot more than what you paid for it.” 

“What are you going to do?” Katie said. 

“Get it appraised,” Bradley said. “I’m busy today, but can you make some calls for me? Find an appraiser who will look at the box.”

After Bradley ended the call, he glanced at a client contract he was preparing. A drop of putrid white puss had oozed from his wounded thumb all over it. 

Later that evening, Katie met Bradley at his condo to discuss the box. As they walked through the front door, Katie’s cell phone rang. 

“That’s Mr. Kowalczyk, the appraiser I told you about,” Katie said. 

“Put gun on speaker phone, so I can talk to him,” Bradley said. 

Katie answered the phone, put it on speaker phone and introduced Bradley to Mr. Kowalczyk. 

“Fantastic news, Bradley,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “I already have a buyer, based on the photos Katie sent me from the original online platform she bought it from. I wanted to call you to tell you how important it is that you bring the box to me tonight. Are you still coming?”

“How much is it worth?” Bradley said. 

“Hard to tell. Could be a fake,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “So, we need to see it in person. You need to bring it to me. If they like it, you could get paid as soon as tonight. It will be in your bank account tomorrow. Minus my cut, of course.” “Can you give me a ballpark on how much they might pay?” Bradley said. 

“This person who wants to see your box is flying in across country,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “Just to buy it. Hopped on a plane an hour after I called him. Like he was on fire. If it is what I think it is, it’s nearly priceless.”

“What is it?” Bradley said. 

“Could be more than 500 years old,” Mr. Kowalczyk said.

“What? No!” Bradley said. “It’s in too good of shape for that. Looks almost new.”

“Just get over here,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “I think you will be very surprised at how much the buyer is willing to pay. See you soon.”

After the call ended, Bradley stood over the box, resting on the kitchen island next to the living room. 

“If the box turned out to be real, what will you do with all your money?” Katie said. 

“Get a better condo,” Bradley said, opening the box’s lid.

“This place is great!” Katie said. “How could you say that? You’re so lucky to live here.” 

“Maybe a better car, too,” Bradley said as he opened one of the box’s tiny compartments. 

“What? A better car?” Katie said. “What car could you possibly want? You already have the best.”  

“Maybe something a little better or a lot better,” Bradley said. “I don’t know yet. We don’t know if it’s worth anything yet.”

Bradley pulled out one of the box’s small inside drawers too far, causing it to pop out. When he tried to push it back in, it wouldn’t fit. 

He flipped it over to try again, and when he did, he found writing on the bottom of it.  

“What’s that?” Katie said. “Looks like a poem.” 

“I don’t think so,” Bradley said. “Reads more like a riddle.”

“Read it to me,” Katie said. “What does it say?”

Bradley read out loud:

“In a realm where paths twist and wind.
This enigma of compartments you will find. 
Though it seems you’re at the apex, peek below. 
For appearances deceive, as you may know. 
Seek not the outside to gain what’s within,
But unlock its heart, and your journey begins.
To reveal the truth, change your perspectives so fine, 
For only from within can its treasures be thine.”

Katie and Bradley stared at the back of the drawer, not saying a word as if they’d both been spellbound by it. 

Bam! 

Bradley jerked his head over toward the explosion of the sound of the box falling off the table onto the kitchen tiles. He felt his heart racing as it beat wildly against his rib cage, while he struggled to catch his breath.  

“Oh God, no!” Katie screamed. “The box!” 

She ran over to the box and whisked it off the floor before placing it back on the table. 

“I think it’s OK,” Katie said. “I don’t think it’s damaged.” 

Bradley staggered to the chair, leaning against its back, drawing in a deep breath as the sound of the box’s crash had shocked him. 

Amid the silence of the room, Bradley heard it. Although part of him wanted to deny it, there was no mistaking it: a voice - a man’s voice – emerged from the box. 

“Release me,” the voice said. “Let me out. Please, unshackle me from this darkness.” 

Bradley suddenly felt cold as he recoiled from the box like it bore the mark of a lethal contagion. 

“Bradley, what’s wrong with you?” Katie said. “Why do you look like that?”

“So dark. So cold. Please help me,” the voice said. “I will help you if you help me. Just let me out. Please be my savior.”

“Don’t touch it!” Bradley said to Katie. “Stay away from it.”

“What is wrong with you?” Katie said. 

“You can’t hear it?” Bradley said. “Are you deaf?”

“Are you crazy?” Katie said, moving toward the box. “Hear what?” 

“No, don’t touch it!” Bradley yelled. “Don’t go near it!”

“Why?” Katie said as she picked the box up again. “What’s got you in knots?”

“Put it down!” Bradley said. “Now!” 

“Tell me what is going on,” Katie said as he placed the box back on the table and stepped away. 

“You seriously didn’t hear that?” Bradley said. 

Bradley stared into Katie’s eyes, scanning for the faintest glimmer of understanding. He waited, but she looked back, seemingly baffled by what he’d just said. 

Bradley found himself adrift at that moment, wondering what to do next. He couldn’t deny what he’d heard, and he knew he wasn’t crazy, so there was only one logical explanation. 

Bradley straightened himself up before turning to the box again, deciding to confront whoever had called to him within the box. 

“Can you hear me?” Bradley said to the box. “Are you there?”

“What are you talking to?” Katie said. “Bradley, what is going on?”

“Help me, please, my liberator,” the voice said. “I can hear you but barely.” 

“You look sick, Bradley. Sit down,” Katie said. “What is wrong with you?”

“You can’t hear it?” Bradley said. 

Katie looked down at the floor in a clear indication that she was oblivious to what Bradley had heard. 

“Come with me!” Bradley said.

Bradley dragged Katie by the arm away from the box. They crossed the living room before heading into Bradley’s bedroom, which was out of earshot of the box.

“What are you doing?” Katie said. “You’re acting nuts right now. Are you joking with me? You’re joking with me. That’s it.” 

“I don’t want him to hear us, so that’s why I brought us into my bedroom,” Bradley said after shutting the bedroom door behind them. 

“Him who?” Katie said. “You’re not making any sense.”

“The first night you brought the box, I found it on the floor the next day,” Bradley said.  

“So what?” Katie said. “It fell. It does that if you put it on the edge of a table. It’s called gravity meets carelessness.”

“Katie, it was on the floor but not near the counter where we’d left it,” Bradley said. “I found it in the middle of the room.” 

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical reason for it to be there,” Katie said. “You probably forgot where you left it.”

“And then just now, the box fell off the table again,” Bradley said. “Explain that to me.” 

“It was on the edge,” Katie said. “It fell. What are you driving at?”

“Just now…and you have to believe me,” Bradley said. “You love me, don’t you?” 

“Always,” Katie said, grabbing his hand. 

“It spoke to me,” Bradley said. “A man’s voice said, ‘Let me out.’” 

“Oh, Bradley,” Katie said, shaking her head. 

“It’s Henri Charles Lavender,” Bradley said. “He’s inside this mystical box, trying to get out.”

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Katie said. “It sounds like a joke.”

“You saw it yourself,” Bradley said. “When we came home, the box was on the table. Now, it fell off, and nobody pushed it. You saw it yourself. How do you explain that?” 

“I’m not falling for your unfunny joke, so how about this?” Katie said. “Let’s just sell the box and be rid of it.” 

“I know what I heard. I know what I saw,” Bradley said. “Listen, I’m as cynical as the next guy, but we need to open our minds to whatever might come our way. Call that Kowalczyk back. Right now.” 

Katie stared at Bradley for a moment before resigning herself to his request. Without saying a word, she retrieved her cell phone. She called Mr. Kowalczyk before putting him on speakerphone again. 

“Hello, are you on your way?” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “Can’t wait to see you.”

“Where does this box come from?” Bradley said. “What is its background?”

“Why don’t you come by here, and I’ll tell you,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. 

“I need to know now,” Bradley said.  

“We should talk in person,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. 

“I’m not showing up until you tell me what’s going on,” Bradley said.  

“Look, I don’t want you to go to anyone else,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “I got the buyer for you. He will pay handsomely if the box is real.”

“Henri Charles Lavender – does that name mean anything to you?” Bradley said. 

On the other end of the line, silence lingered for many moments as Bradley waited for a response that wasn’t coming. 

“Are you still there?” Bradley said. 

“The box is associated with that name,” Mr. Kowalczyk said.

“And who is he?” Bradley said. 

“An aristocrat who was the wealthiest man in New Orleans in the early 1800s. Some say he was one of the richest men in the world at the time,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “If it’s real, the box is quite old.”

“And?” Bradley said. “Are you going to tell me the whole story?”

“Not much else to tell,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. 

“Fine, I’ll take it to someone else then,” Bradley said. 

“No!” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “Please don’t!”

“Listen, in my line of work, I’m paid to lie to people all day,” Bradley said. “You’re lying to me by hiding critical information I should know. So start squawking, or else I’m out.”

“Lavender narrowly escaped the guillotines of the French Revolution before moving to Louisiana and settling there,” Mr. Kowalczyk said.

“Keep going,” Bradley said. 

“When he arrived in the Americas, legend has it, some odd occurrences happened around him,” Mr. Kowalczyk said.

“Seriously, you’re killing me with this,” Bradley said. “I’m not interested in doing business with you.” 

“The box is rumored to have some magical properties or worse,” Mr. Kowalczyk said.

“I don’t know why, but I’m still listening,” Bradley said. “The more you talk, the more confused I get. Just spill it.”

“It’s just a story,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “It’s not true.”

“Tell me everything, or I’m hanging up on you right now,” Bradley said. 

“Lavender was rumored to be a practitioner of the dark arts,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “That’s how he got all his money – or that’s the legend. When he was to be executed during the French Revolution, he mysteriously escaped and found refuge in Louisiana. Some believe he used his black magic to escape. A few years later, he simply disappeared one day in New Orleans. No one ever saw him again. That’s all I know. I swear.” 

“What the hell does all that have to do with the box?” Bradley said. 

“It’s Lavender’s box,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “Some believe it bestows immense riches onto the owner, which was why Lavender was so wealthy.” 

“Now we’re getting to it,” Bradley said. “What kind of riches?”  

“It’s just a story,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “It’s just an old box with a wonderful story attached to it.”

“What kind of riches?” Bradley said. “Tell me now.”  

“Infinite riches. Beyond anything you can imagine,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “It’s just a remarkable conversation piece for those who already have tremendous riches. So, many benefactors want it due to its history.” 

“Katie told me it might have been used like an urn,” Bradley said. “Maybe Lavender’s ashes are in it.” 

“That is quite possible. But unconfirmed,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. “The story is he simply disappeared one day. But in those days, maybe he died doing something he shouldn’t, and the family didn’t want the papers to know, so they covered it up, and it went unreported. But whoever sold it to you didn’t know the box’s full history. Their loss is your gain.”

“How much could it be worth?” Bradley said. “And I want the truth.”

“You could realize many millions if my client buys it,” Mr. Kowalczyk said. 

Bradley glanced at Katie, who squealed with delight at the prospect, clapping her hands as she jumped up and down.

“Thank you, Mr. Kowalcyzk,” Bradley said. “We’ll be over as soon as we can.” 

“Perfect!” Mr. Kowalcyzk said before hanging up the phone. “See you soon.”

"Unbelievable! You’re going to be a millionaire,” Katie said. “Think of it! Let’s go.”

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Bradley said. “I just told him that to humor him. I need to talk to Henri Charles Lavender again.” 

“Stop! Your joke has gone far enough,” Katie said. 

“He doesn’t speak to you,” Bradley said. “Only to certain people. Special people.” 

“OK, if I believe you’re hearing voices, and I don’t, let’s just sell the box,” Katie said. “Get the money and never think of that again. For the record, I’m not falling for your joke. I’m not playing along anymore.” 

“Did you not hear?” Bradley said. “The last owner of the box, Henri Charles Lavender, was once the richest person in the country, maybe even the world at that time.”

“Take the money from Mr. Kowalczyk and run,” Katie said. 

“You love me, don’t you?” Bradley said. 

“Always,” Katie said.  

“Then you should believe me,” Bradley said.  

“How far are you going to take this?” Katie said. 

“I know what I heard,” Bradley said. 

“OK, so let’s say it’s real?” Katie said. 

“It is real, Katie,” Bradley said. “I’m not so anchored in skepticism that I dismiss all the mysteries of this world.” 

“You have to sell it,” Katie said. “Get rid of it. So let’s just go. You’re freaking me out anyway.” 

“No way,” Bradley said. “Not now.” 

“It’s worth millions,” Katie said. “That old box.”

“It’s worth billions,” Bradley said. “Maybe even trillions if I can talk to it the right way.” 

“You don’t know anything about it,” Katie said. “Whoever this box owner was.” 

“Henri Charles Lavender,” Bradley said. 

“Who?” Katie said. 

“The previous owner of the box,” Bradley said. “The richest man in New Orleans, maybe even in the world at the time - Henri Charles Lavender – that’s his name. Didn’t you hear that?” 

“Yeah, he’s dead. Right?” Katie said. “I wouldn’t mess with the dead. Cut your losses and take the smart way out. Sell the box. Leave the rest alone.” 

Bradley felt uncertain as he rubbed his forehead while looking at Katie, who eyeballed him back. But the prospect of all his dreams coming true bolstered his conviction about what he wanted to do next. 

He bolted for the bedroom door with Katie trailing behind him. 

“Bradley, wait!” Katie said. “Why would Henri Charles Lavender speak to you and not his own family? It’s never spoken to me or anyone else that we know of. Why you? It doesn’t make sense. Something is not right.”

“I’m right, I know it,” Bradley said. 

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Katie said. “You don’t know anything really about the box.” 

“You don’t get it. That’s OK,” Bradley said. “But maybe I shouldn’t call him by his name. Might freak him out if I know his name before he tells me. Good idea. I’ll play dumb. Thanks, Katie. Now, let me talk to him and please don’t interrupt.”

Bradley marched out of his bedroom, leaving Katie to follow. He crossed the living room to the counter where the box laid. 

“Hello! Can you hear me?” Bradley said to the box. “Are you still there?”

“Is that you, my savior? Let me out,” the voice said. “It’s so cold in here. So dark. I can barely hear you. So faint. You must help me. I’m trapped. Please be my liberator.”

“But what will you do for me?” Bradley said. 

“I will give you that which you most desire – true satisfaction with your life,” the voice said. “You will truly be grateful for all the riches you have.” 

“No tricks?” Bradley said. “ No strings attached?” 

“Correct, my redeemer,” the voice said. “You give me something of value, and I give you something of value. But I must warn you. Many have tried to emancipate me. All have failed.” 

“Bradley, I don’t like this,” Katie said. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t know how to let you out,” Bradley said. “What do I do?”

“Only you can let me out,” the voice said. “You are the keeper of the box. Time is running out! I can barely hear you now. I’m fading. Hurry! Or it will be too late!” 

Bradley ripped the drawers out of the box, casting them off to the side onto the countertop and the floor below. 

“Bradley, what are you doing?” Katie said. “Who are you talking to?”

“The riddle!” Bradley said. “That must be it. That must be the key to liberating Henri Charles Lavender from this box.”

Bradley flipped over the small drawers, looking for the riddle they’d just read minutes before, but none of the box’s drawers had any writing on them. 

“You saw it!” Bradley said to Katie. “The riddle! It’s disappeared!”

Katie picked up the small drawers that had been ejected from the innards of the box, flipping them over as she looked for the riddle. 

“It has to be in here,” Katie said. “You must have missed one of the drawers.”

“Do you believe me now?” Bradley said. “This box is magical. It brings immense wealth to its owner. We must figure out how to get him out.”

Katie again riffled through each drawer, examining their undersides.  She searched for the riddle that she knew she’d just seen moments before, but now it had vanished, leaving no trace. 

“The riddle said something about above and below,” Katie said. 

“No, it was like top and bottom,” Bradley said. “Something like that.”

Bradley slapped the box shut and stared at it like he was waiting for it to leap off the counter. 

“What did the riddle say?” Bradley said. “Though it seems like you’re at the apex, peak below. For appearances deceive as you may know.”

Bradley glanced down at the floor, lost in thought. He looked back at the box and grabbed both sides of it. In one swift movement, he flipped the box upside down. 

Now, the bottom of the box looked like the top. He noted a fine seam around the edges, appearing where the bottom of the box met a top lid. What looked like fine scrolling around the center on one side appeared as a keyhole. 

“Bradley, how did you do that!” Katie said. “You flipped the box, and now the top of the box looks like the bottom, and the bottom looks like the top. Maybe we had it flipped on the wrong side the whole time. And look at that. It’s a keyhole, but where is the key?” 

“Katie, don’t fall for it,” Bradley said. “That keyhole is a red herring.”

“What do you mean?” Katie said. “The bottom is now the top, and there’s a place for a keyhole.” 

“Right, that’s what it wants you to believe,” Bradley said. “Run around, looking for a key. Waste your time. But the riddle said nothing about a key. It’s misdirection.” 

“But then, how do we open it?” Katie said. 

“The riddle said something about paths twisting and winding,” Bradley said. “And seek not the outside to gain what’s within.”

“The paths intertwining  – maybe it’s teams work,” Katie said. “It takes two to open it.”

“What if it can’t be opened from the outside like a regular box but more like a door?” Bradley said. “A door can open from either side. But it had to be on the right side first. I just flipped it upside down, so now it’s right.”

“Well then, how do you open it?” Katie said. 

“Seek not the outside to gain within,” Bradley said. “That’s what the riddle said, but what does it mean?”

Bradley pivoted toward the box, with his shoulders squared and his chest slightly puffed up as he shook in anticipation of his victory. He knew he stood on the verge of his deepest desires if all went as planned. 

“Can you hear me?” Bradley said to the box. 

Bradley heard the voice reply: “Is that you, my champion? I can barely hear you.”

“Listen, the box is ready to be opened, but I can’t open it from my side,” Bradley said. “You must find a way to open it on your side. Look for a latch, a way to get out. I know it’s dark where you are, but feel around for it. Anything that might open a doorway.”

Bradley waited, but he got no reply. 

“Are you there?” Bradley said, wiping away a stream of sweat cascading down his cheek. “Where have you gone?”

Bradley stood over the box, staring at it, almost willing it to reply, but he heard nothing more. 

“Wait, it can’t be,” Bradley said. “It must be the answer according to the riddle. I don’t know what we did wrong.” 

“Bradley, this scares me,” Katie said. “Sell this thing. Get rid of it.” 

“I don’t understand. It made sense. It has to be right,” Bradley said. “It all makes sense with the riddle. What other way could there be?” 

Bradley stepped back as if he were recoiling from the once-promising box that held so much hope. He closed his eyes and shook his head in silent disappointment.

“Hello, my deliverer!” a voice said directly behind Bradley. “I am emancipated!”

“You made it out!” Bradley said. “Where are you? I can’t see you.” 

“Here! Right beside you, but you can’t see me,” the voice said. “No one can. Not yet, but soon. It’s so bright the light.  I’d almost forgotten it. I’ve been in that trap for so long.” 

“So, can you help me?” Bradley said.  “You said you’d give me riches.”

“Of course, your gift,” the voice said. “Here it is.” 

Bradley felt a creeping weight pressing against his right eye that increased in intensity. 

His eye pulsated and rocked back and forth as if it was being removed like unscrewing a light bulb from its fixture. 

Blood began dripping down his cheek as the pressure grew. 

“Oh no, Bradley, what is happening!” Katie screamed.  “Your eye! It’s missing. It’s gone!”

Bradley grabbed his face where his right eye used to be, but now it was just a gaping black hole with blood dripping from it.

“I’m calling 911! Where’s my phone!” Katie yelled as she ran out of the room.

“What did you do!” Bradley said. “Why? I saved you! You tricked me!” 

“I did no such thing,” the voice said. “I gave you what you truly wanted.” 

“I didn’t want you to steal my eye,” Bradley said.  

“Don’t look it that way,” the voice said. 

“Give me my eye back!” Bradley screamed.

“You most want to feel that you have arrived,” the voice said. “That your life is as it should be. To be grateful for all you have and not wanting what you don’t.” 

“This is not how it should be!” Bradley screamed. 

“Your disappointment is only due to your distorted perspective,” the voice said. “What would a blind man give for just one seeing eye? Now you have one eye left, far more than a blind man has.” 

“I want my eye back!” Bradley yelled. 

“Never again will you look in the mirror at your remaining eye and take it for granted,” the voice said. “Remember, you could’ve lost them both. But now you’ll be forever grateful for what you have and not be disappointed with what you don’t have.”

Bradley hobbled to the table, propping himself up while covering his open eye socket. 

“Excuse me, Bradley. I must take leave of you now,” the voice said. “Thank you for emancipating me. But now I must find Henri Charles Lavender - the bastard who imprisoned me in this God-forsaken box!”

Thank you for joining us at Doorway to Darkness. Horror stories by Casey Burrin. Narrated by the Night Creeper. Please follow or subscribe on your podcast app of choice. 

Until next time, stay alive, if you can.