Pandora is given a box. Quite simply, she must never open it.
And Pandora is normally very good at following rules.
Until she isn't.
Out comes her curiosity and out comes the contents of her box.
It's not all the disasters you've read about in t...
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𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙. THE DISAPPEARING ACT
•••
I did it the second I got home.
Touching the box had bothered me. The box disappearing had bothered me. And the sudden heat purging my core was bothering me.
I lay in bed, my thoughts drifting askew as my hand drove lower and deeper. My breaths grew irregular, hitching in my throat. I bit down onto my lip to silence my moans, desire rattling in the four walls of my mind as I pushed myself over the edge.
Blood rang in my ears, my senses dizzy with an unfamiliar sensation. I felt dazed, blinded—I felt red.
Like heat. Like a need.
But I didn't know what it was that I needed.
I shot out from beneath my duvet at a fulminating sound, clasping a hand to my mouth as I slid behind the bed. A rattling arose from beyond the door of my bedroom, the impatient noise growing rampant. It swelled to an almost deafening volume as I shuffled to hide beneath the frame of my bed, my palms pressed to my ears.
I pushed harder against my temples, the tone of the commotion bordering painful.
Tears pricked the back of my eyes, fear pricking my skin in sweat. I let out a whimper, confusion and fear coursing through my veins. Curling up into I tight ball, I forced my eyes shut.
I shivered as the clanging began to hush, my limbs trembling in horror.
I slid out from beneath my bed, wiping the remaining tears off my cheeks. My pacing breaths echoed around in the apartment walls, overtaking the sudden and deafening silence. Cautiously, I dipped my head above the mattress, peaking past my makeshift shield.
Unrest threatened to drown me out. I'd only been here two days, and already the surroundings were battling with my sanity.
A hushed sob escaped past my lips as I shoved one foot in front of the other, trudging to where the noise had arisen from.
My eyes locked onto the white box sitting peacefully on my dining table, it's antique, pale design contrasting with the mess of the room.
Shards of glass curtained the marble of the apartment, broken plates and furniture bordering every corner.
I ventured closer, careful to avoid the shattered remains of my belongings. The walls were stripped bare of their decor and the only thing that remained intact was the box.
