"This box, what did it contain?", asked the policeman as he sat down at his black metal desk. I stayed silent in the creaky wooden chair and surveyed the room. All over the walls there was evidence of unrelated cases to mine. I anxiously looked up and the bearded policeman's face. He repeated, "What was in that box?". I felt my demon, my horrid, cruel demon, take charge of my body. I twitched and saw his face pale. He screamed as my demon bit his throat, killing him instantly. The demon laughed and exited my body. I tasted the warm metallic blood in my mouth. I knew this was bad. I had to leave now. I walked over the the dead policeman and looked into his cold, dead eyes. I grimaced as I grabbed the loaded gun from his belt. This was the only way to kill my demon. I placed the cool barrel on my temple and pulled the trigger.
YOU ARE READING
The Box
Short StorySo a while back I wrote a short story called box and... well... lets say, my friends thought it was interesting so I have decided to make a whole book full of disturbing stories about the box on its journey.
