The dark web -Part 2.

The package didn't seem strange at all. It was a simple cardboard box. Just like the previous one. The only difference was the logo from some kind of foreign sweets he had never seen or tasted in his life; normal, considering where it came from; Belgrade, Serbia. But from the moment he cut the packing tape with a knife, things got a little strange.

When he opened the box, the hair on his arms stood on end. He got goosebumps. Mariano stood frozen, staring into the package. Until a hiss made him jump.

León was beside him. The cat, with light brown fur and a few white stripes on its back, was bristled. It bared its sharp teeth and hissed. Mariano wanted to pet it to calm it down, but it backed away, still growling. He decided to ignore it and focused on the object inside the box. He hoped it was something good, and it sure was.

A damn wonder, he would think later, his Pandora's box.

Before he took it out, something caught his eye. A note. A note from the owner, maybe? Great, the more realistic, the better. The paper looked old, with that yellowed tone of time passing by; like ancient parchment. He held one end of it with two pinching fingers; he didn't want to take any risks, who knows what kind of weird bug it had been in the hands of. There was something written. Mariano didn't know the language, but it felt familiar. The letters were in cursive, and the ink, dried up, had a coppery color (poor fool).

'ET ERITIS MIHI CARNEM ET ANIMAM MEAM.'

Mariano hesitated, licked his lips, and swallowed. He read it aloud.

Nothing happened.

He laughed at himself, feeling stupid for getting nervous, and put the strange note aside. As for the object he had received, it didn't seem threatening at all; it was actually a piece of junk. He had imagined something terrifying, or at least eerie. Or, at the very least, unsettling. Not a clay jar with a wooden stopper; it wasn't even decorated with extravagant designs.

Taking a deep breath, he held the jar and weighed its contents. He sighed; the weight indicated that it was empty.

"They could have sent me some ram's blood," he complained.

He felt like throwing it, but once again, he restrained himself; junk or not, it had cost him money. He left it on the table and looked for the note. The cat was going berserk, thanks to its fur, it resembled a lioness on the prowl. Although the minimalist setting had little in common with a jungle; Mariano had the basic furniture. But somehow, León managed to get entangled in the TV cables; the appliance wobbled. For a second, Mariano's heart almost jumped out of his throat. That was enough. He grabbed the cat by the back and, amid protesting meows, locked it in the room. What the hell was wrong with it? The vet had assured him that neutering would calm it down. It seemed more excited than ever.

Mariano settled into the armchair and stared at the table hesitantly. He thought about looking for the camera, but what was the point? The note piqued his curiosity, but that was it. The jar was useless, and the box was just a box; it would last a few days as León's toy and then end up in the trash. The only noteworthy thing in the package was the three languages on the packaging; English, Spanish, and Serbian. How a package from Serbia made its way to Argentina was a mystery; the customs must not care about blocking the passage of a clay ornament.

He put his hands to his temples; he had a problem.

He didn't have enough material for a video. He had thrown money down the drain. He would have to make up a bunch of things to create creepy content for his audience; and risk being labeled a fraud, he thought, scratching his head vigorously. His hair got all disheveled, giving him the appearance of a mad scientist.

In a fit of frustration, he swiped at the box. It went flying but didn't land far. Mariano heard a rattling; plastic hitting the floor. He inspected the area around the box with his eyes.

He jumped to his feet.

His eyes lit up. He approached cautiously, afraid it was just an illusion created by his brain due to a strong desire for a stroke of luck.

"Great!" he exclaimed, confident in the object's authenticity. It was about time his luck changed.

He bent down and held it in the palm of his hand; the touch couldn't be fictional. The small USB drive was real. Mariano nearly ran to the computer, eager to discover the content. But he had a hunch:

"If I missed a memory, maybe I can still get lucky and stumble upon something interesting inside the jar."

He tucked the USB drive in his pants pocket and returned to the armchair. He decided he would investigate the contents later. And, agreeing with his parents; 'You're too impulsive and you always end up banging your head against a wall,' Mariano hastily uncovered the clay jar.

In twenty-five years of hasty and thoughtless decisions, that was undoubtedly the worst of all...