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The orb screamed at me. Shrieking that I needed to come to it.

It could save me.

I wasn’t sure what I feared more.

The footsteps in the hall or the voices in my head.

Sleep wouldn’t come.

Which was why I heard the footsteps in the kitchen.

There should be no one in great-grandma’s house but me.

The orb sang to me. Calling out to me.

I tried to ignore its siren song.

I put on music, tried streaming a new show I’d heard great things about, and finally curled up with a book.

But I could still hear it calling to me.

It wasn’t a phone inside, though I had no idea what it was.

A ball of some sort. Pulsing with a glorious array of color.

I wanted to reach out. To touch it. To see what the colors felt like.

I yanked my hand back, closed the box, and dropped it back in the hole.

I stared at the box, then shrugged.

If it was someone’s phone, they would come back for it.

As I stood up, the edge of the box nicked my finger, and a drop of blood dripped over the box.

The lid sprung open.

I pulled back the boards and discovered a strange box buried inside of a solid stone chamber.

I blinked down at it, but whatever was glowing was coming from inside the box.

Had to be bright as the light was seeping out of the cracks.

I turned the strange box over in my hands, but I could see no way to open it.