[     Carefully set in the center of a small dresser sits a well-worn, wooden box. Although out of place, there is nothing immediately ominous about the object, aside from the fact that it means someone else has been here. But who? Not a friend, nor a neighbor, nor the tired sibling have any knowledge of this gift. There has been nobody in this room since its owner left it⌠or so they will say. The box itself says otherwise.       ]
[     It is when it is opened that the object reveals it is not as innocent as it appears. A ghastly stench immediately billows out and clouds the air nearby, painting this side of the bedroom with the smell of decay. The contents within reveal its source: a decomposing rodent, swarmed with dozens and dozens and dozens of bloody, wriggling maggots. Most of them are large and fat, a telltale sign that this message has been in the works for a good few days. Enough for them to gorge themselves on the decomposing ratâs insides.]
[     Latched around the poor animalâs throat is a chain, and attached to the chain is a bullet. Although not immediately obvious, its insides has been emptied and replaced with a more harrowing message⌠should it be found, it raises an unsettling question. If not, the primary message is still made clear, posed ominously in the underside of the top of the box. The index card is impossibly clean for something that has sat in the same vicinity of a rotting animal. It makes it clear that this box has not been here too longâŚ]
         Ęá´á´Ę ÉŞÉ´ęąÉŞá´
á´ęą á´ĄÉŞĘĘ Ęá´ á´ęą Ęá´á´á´á´É´ á´ęą ĘÉŞęą.
Signed,
A Concerned Citizen
The only thing that Beckett Monroe had wanted to do when he got home was eat and then pass out. With school, work, and the three-mile walk home, he was exhausted. Bailey had disappeared somewhere for the night and had left a note telling him that there was food in the fridge. He thought it would have been a pretty uneventful night of sleep after he got home. It was, after all, one in the morning and it wasnât like he expected Oz to come over. What he hadnât expected was to find what was laying on top of his dresser.Â
See, Beck locked his door so Bailey wouldnât come in because he liked his privacy and so he knew no one could have gotten in, and he hadnât set the box on his dresser. Maybe Bailey had gotten in somehow and left something there for him. Normally he would have just let the box go until the morning but his curiosity got the best of him and he opened it.Â
What he found was definitely not what he expected and in the instant his eyes met the writhing maggots, and the rotten rat, he had to turn away. Whoever left this on his dresser wasnât someone he knew, and whoever it was had a sick mind to leave this here. Once he got his breath back and the stench wasnât filling his nostrils anymore, he turned back. He lifted his shirt over his face and looked down to see the bullet wrapped around the rat's neck. Despite his better judgment, he reached forward and grabbed it and eyed it for a minute before looking up and noticing the index card. He read the words, dropped the bullet and closed the box and went and sat on his bed and grabbed his phone. Beckett didnât know what the fuck was going on but he knew one thing. He needed to tell Oz because this whole situation gave him the creeps. To say that his night full of sleep was ruined was an understatement. If whoever put the box there wanted Beckett to feel unsafe and creeped out, they got their wish.Â
