The Pathways of Enchantment.

Nightmare

       Will woke up to a strange smell that reminded him of something burning. He looked around but couldn't find his sister anywhere. Feeling a bit scared, he tiptoed over to the stairs and took a peek. His heart raced as he called out for Arlene. "Uh...Arlene!?" he shouted, "Did you leave something cooking?" There was silence. He dashed downstairs, searching for any signs of smoke. He noticed it was coming from the basement. "The Box!" Will rushed to the small door and flung it open. It was hot, but there wasn't any real fire. He tried to open the box but then remembered, "Oh right, I need that dumb key." He kept blowing on it until the awful smell disappeared. Just then, a door creaked open. 

Will's heart skipped a beat as he turned toward the sound. The basement was dimly lit, shadows dancing along the walls, and the air was thick with an unsettling tension. He squinted into the darkness, trying to make out any shapes or movements. 

"Arlene?" he called again, his voice trembling slightly. No response. He took a cautious step forward, the wooden floor creaking beneath his weight. The smell of something burnt still lingered, but it was fading, replaced by a musty odor that seemed to seep from the very walls of the basement. Will's mind raced with possibilities. 

What if Arlene had gotten into trouble? What if she was hurt? He glanced back at the small door leading to the basement, the one that had always been off-limits. It was a place filled with old boxes, forgotten toys, and the remnants of their childhood. But now, it felt like a portal to something unknown, something dangerous. 

 Will's fingers brushed against the cold metal of the box, and he remembered the key that had been hidden in the back of the kitchen drawer. He had always thought it was just a silly trinket, but now it felt like the only way to unlock whatever mystery lay within. He turned back to the stairs, ready to sprint back up and grab the key, when he heard it again—a soft creaking sound, followed by a faint whisper. "Will..." His breath caught in his throat. It was Arlene's voice, but it sounded distant, almost echoing. "Arlene!" he shouted, his voice rising in urgency. "Where are you?" The whisper came again, more insistent this time. 

"Will, help me..." Panic surged through him. He had to find her. He took a deep breath, steeling himself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. He stepped further into the basement, the darkness swallowing him whole. As he moved deeper, he could see the outline of the box more clearly. It was old and battered, covered in dust and cobwebs, but it pulsed with an energy that made his skin tingle. He reached for the latch, but his fingers hesitated. What if opening it unleashed something terrible? But then he heard Arlene's voice again, clearer this time. "Will, please!"

Will stood up straight on his bed, his eyes wide with surprise. "Arlene!!" he shouted.

 "Will?" Arlene replied, looking confused. He dashed over to her and locked eyes with her.

 "Are you okay?!" he asked urgently. 

"What do you mean? I'm fine! Did you have a bad dream?" 

Will glanced down at the floor, then his gaze shifted to the basement, his hands trembling. Arlene turned to see what had caught his attention. 

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

 "No... um... I think I'll head to work... at the bakery," Will said. He figured that keeping busy would help him feel better. That box was more dangerous than it seems.

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