While sifting through the towers of boxes that remain from when he moved into their new house, Kevin found one box in particular that he did not remember packing nor even bringing into the house. It was a small wooden crate with a removeable lid, not too different from a jewelry box. The box had no markings save a few scratches around the edge of the lid and the remainder of the box.
Kevin picked it up and examined the small box thoroughly. The box’s weight seemed to indicate that it was empty, but when he shook it, it rattled as if it contained a massive amount of contents. Metal scraping up against glass, colliding with stone and entangling with some sort of fabric.
Kevin called out to to his wife to see if she could identify the container, but he remembered that she went to the local store to purchase some new draperies for the window. Kevin was left with the box, and his curiosity.
He decided to open the box.
He clenched the fingers of his left hand around the lid and his right hand around the body and pulled. The box would not open. It even seemed that the harder he pulled, the tighter the lid adhered itself to the box, as if it didn’t want to be opened.
Kevin, now puzzled over the box, decided to end the mystery once and for all and fetched himself a pry bar from his toolbox. He placed the pry bar blade under the lip of the lid and cranked the bar down as hard as he could. The pry bar snapped in two.
Kevin, now furious over the box’s refusal to open resorted to the lowest form of ingenuity. He hurled the box across the room and with a splintering crack, the box splintered against the far wall. What surprised Kevin more than to see the box, that was so obstinate against opening, cracking open so easily against the wall, was the viscous black liquid that oozed out of the box that now lay upon the floor.
Kevin slowly approached the pile of shattered wood and tar like substance slowly, and just about as he was to touch it, the black liquid blew away, like ash in the wind.
Kevin stood there for a moment, attempting to fathom what he just saw. The box was now empty. He picked it up and it disintegrated in his hands, like it had been rotting for centuries. Kevin was even more puzzled by this. This box, that had held so strong from his bare fingers, and even a crowbar would simply turn to dust after it shattered against the wall and its contents would spill upon the floor and then vanish. Kevin thought his wife would never believe this.
Kevin suddenly caught the scent of rotten meat as he spun around to unpack another box, only to see the wide eyes and black skin of the beast he had just released from its ancient prison.
Amanda returned home from a disappointing round of shopping from window dressings, to find it empty. She was sure that her husband informed her that he would be busy most of the day unpacking boxes in the basement. But all she could find in the basement, besides the towers of boxes that still reigned supreme, was a black inky handprint next to a small unmarked box that she did not remember packing nor even bringing into the house.