The Flamed Box🔥

1

>Tue 2nd April 2086<

>Xenith Museum of National History<

"Of all the places our school could visit... it had to be the most boring," Jason muttered as he shuffled along with his classmates. 

"Mr. Dinsley," the teacher's sharp voice cut through his thoughts, "would you like to lead the tour?"

Jason shrugged, "Umm... No, Miss Roselia."

"Then please keep quiet and don't cause any trouble."

"Okay Miss…", he mumbled.

The tour guide, a dapper middle-aged man with a clipboard, clapped his hands. "Alright, kids, stay close. We're entering a highly restricted area now. No photos allowed.”

The students groaned, reluctantly handing over their phones at the security post before trailing after the guide. 

"Now, the only reason you kids have been allowed entry..." The guide paused as the teacher cleared her throat. "...let’s just say, your school board has an agreement with the museum authorities." 

“Agreement.” Jason mused, rolling his amber-colored eyes.

“Right this way then. No touching anything. You’re looking at centuries’ worth of history. Just look, don't touch.” 

“All I see here is junk.” Jason smirked, but a glare from Miss Roselia made him look down at his feet. 

“Now kids, on display here we have one of the—… "

This might even be more boring than listening to Geo...

Jason’s eyes wandered as they walked on, barely listening to the tour guide’s boring lecture, until something caught his attention—a small, red metallic box, covered in strange carvings.

"That box is said to be as old as time itself," a frail voice whispered.

He turned to see an elderly museum worker, eyes gleaming with a strange light.

"Nine hundred and ninety-nine evil entities sealed in it, the thousandth of them being the flame of the devil himself," the old man continued.

"The devil? Oh please," Jason scoffed. "I don’t believe in such myths."

The old man smiled mysteriously. "According to the legend, only one born of the sacred blood can unlock its secrets."

Jason then gave the strange box another look, checking to see if there was anything particularly special about it. “Looks like a plain old music box to me.”

“You will be surprised, as you’ll find there is much more to this little old box than meets the eye...”

"If it’s so important, why isn't it locked up somewhere else?" Jason questioned, noticing a round hole in the front of the box, like a keyhole.

“I can assure you that it is exactly where it needs to be…” he replied. “...as was destined.”

Miss Roselia suddenly noticed that her class of students was missing a person. Sure enough, looking down the hall she spotted the red-haired miscreant approaching a glass display.

“Dinsley!” 

The tour guide’s voice cut through the air, "Hey, you there! Stop! Don't touch anything!"

But there was no stopping Jason as he felt an irresistible pull towards the box. He slid his index finger into the keyhole and immediately, a sharp searing pain shot through his chest, sending him staggering back from the box. His vision blurred, and he felt his legs give way beneath him. The world spun uncontrollably as he collapsed to the hard cold floor. The last thing he saw being the horrified faces of his teacher and classmates and the tour guide’s frantic shouts.