Behind The Locks || ONC 2024

Chapter 7: The Box

The glimmer got more pronounced as her eyes exhibited through the floating mild dust particles.

Though vague, its ambiance was queer, and like of nothing she had ever laid her eyes upon. 

It glinted like crystals, it reflected like diamonds, it strobe like disco lights, and the bewitching of it all was how its blue, pink, and a complementing purple wobbled from one end to another like a wave.

Its energy magnet all five senses of her own, pulling her like a hypnotized zombie.

Against her better judgment, her hands gravitated towards it.

The library, like everything else, kept quiet, eagerly watching her in growing anticipation of what was to be withdrawn.

Synchronized, her nails pierced through the sliver between the glowing rectangle and the walls of the hole.

It felt wrong, but she kept on doing it anyway. 

She felt its flexibility and was swift to defang it from its roots.

She drew it to the surface, finally discerning its exquisite, antique ambiance.

As soon as it caught light, its flickering rays of blue, pink, and purple swapped to golden, banded with a faded brown color.

That wasn't the most surprising part; it mimicked a treasure chest frilled with profound ancient Egypt hieroglyphics and inexplicable symbols, most of which were adopted from the glass roof above her head.

It went without saying that it was one of the existing treasures of the library's relics.

It came with a faded dry pine ordure and a shadowed rusty scent.

A whim of excitement, from nowhere she could trace in her mind, befell her like a shroud. She had just discovered what she could only assume was a hidden masterpiece.

A sound she was ignoring, assuming it was her mind flim-flaming with her became more prominent. It was like a clock ticking next to her ears.

Tick-tock, tick-tick, the sound maintained its tempo and distance, but Arielline dared not to drop her guard. She squirmed in rising awareness.

Come to think of it; the library was rid of anything close to a clock or watch. 

As far as she knew, clocks were overrated embellishment artifacts in the early nineties, if her history teacher was not wrong, and assessing from the contemporary appearance of the library, there was supposed to be one if not more.

The clock continued ticking, the chest's hasp bewitching her eyes. She involuntarily stretched her hands towards it and fumbled with it left to right, unlatching it.

Upon its click, the clock sounds resceeded, and the emptiness in the air proceeded.

A tide of unease settled at the bottom of her stomach, threatening to overwhelm and make a hole out of it.

Her phone beeped without warning, gushing adrenaline to every fiber of her body. She jolted away from the box instinctively before summoning back her composure.

Zack had just sent the link.

Paradoxically, Arielline wanted to but still didn't want to see what the chest concealed. 

Too late for an argument. Her hands clasped the edges of the lid and snapped it open, hesitantly, wary of whatever darkness loomed inside the shoe-sized chest. 

Her eyes dilated as her threshold of curiosity expanded, unavailing a bunch of keys ringed together through their bows.

They were rusted on their edges, a red-brown color taking over, but were predominantly golden on the parts that had not yet been consumed.

The inside of the box was walled with a light brown texture.

In contrast to her forecast, the keys were vacant of any diabolical attributes. Or so she thought.

She pulled them out of the box and gave them a closer eye, hoping to reveal whatever they had that was so special for their hiding under the library floors.

Just like other typical rusted, aged keys, they were, but their bows adorned with signs.

All had different signs in comparison, most of which were petrifying and resembled twisted and crooked eyes.

She was no nerd in ancient Egypt, but there was no way she could miss the warning marks displayed in blood-red gems, hidden claws, and skeletons fixed as part of the keys’ furnishings.

Who could tell if they foretold an ominous near-future or they were her way to breaking this chains called Twelve Locks Valley?

It could be a crevice in the confines of the valley. A path to a famous discovery.

Every organ in her body direly wanted to venture into more of the keys, frantically scanning them key to another. Her body hair coincided by erecting like a spider’s.

She found herself counting them and was stunned by the value. Twelve.

If there were twelve keys, THERE WERE TWELVE LOCKS.

Was it too late to restore the keys blazing with imminent danger?