Thomas felt more and more grown up.
Something about Jack trusting him to stay home alone since he turned thirteen.
The greatest joy the young man knew was in receiving a package. That little
thrill when an stranger bearing gifts he was allowed to accept knocked on the
door was the primary reason most of his allowance money was spent in online
shops.
Jack didn't understand the obsession,
but he enjoyed the independence the boy showed. He also liked the smile on the
young man's face. Thomas was a melancholy child, who lived far too much in his
own head. So Jack never considered putting a stop to the mild and non-harmful
addiction.
When the two simple joys combined, there
was nothing better in the world. Not even close. This one though... a trill of
fear quaked up his spine as he opened the door and signed for the package.
Jack's birthday was coming up. Thomas was saving for that, so he had not
ordered anything in weeks. Yet, here was this package.
The door closed on the delivery man,
leaving Thomas to his wonder and the unnatural silence that suddenly filled the
house. Jack wouldn't order something for him. He'd buy it in the store and
watch the boy's face. So there was a secret here. Mysteries are irresistible to
teenage boys, and Thomas was no exception. Then there was the package itself.
The fabric containing the gift, for that
it surely was, was like nothing Thomas had ever seen. The color for one thing.
Thomas thought of it as a supernatural shade. A cross between midnight blue and
the red of heart's blood, it shown like the black of a moonless night. Thomas
instinctively thought of it as Judgment Night purple.
The feel of it was no different. Like
furry sandpaper he could not help but pet. It felt like sex and violence. That
touch of the beckoning divine, corruption and salvation. It felt like his first
time, though that had not happened yet. Thomas knew not how he understood all
these things. But he did.
When he set the shoebox sized package on
the floor, it began to shake violently. It beckoned to him. A silent scream emanated
from the box, for his ears alone. It called to him with the ceaseless appeal of
modern siren. Thomas could not resist, no, tell the truth and shame the devil,
he would not.
With all the patience inherent in the
male of the species he showed the wrapping its proper respect. He tore the
fabric asunder, discarding it like a prom dress. The box inside was made of an
ebony wood held together with pure gold fastenings. Interesting, but nothing
compared to the fabric that previously encased it, or the things inside. Also,
much like a prom date.
Thomas flipped the lid open. A howl
whirled past his ears. Blistering cold and numbing heat, damnation and
salvation, angels and demons, all whipped past him and into the night. He saw
none of these things but felt them just the same.
When he recovered and looked inside
there was but one piece of velum, smaller than an index card. Everything the
world needed was already out of the box. Written on that parchment in flaking, metallic
ink, once the black of night now faded to the gray of forgotten sins were three
words.
Treason - Love, Pandora.
#shortstory #novel #author #writing #writer #writingprompt
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