The Chest's Contents

A foreboding noise came from the locked chest. Though ominous, it made a familiar, comforting sound like a long-lost timepiece. Such ancient technology shouldn't be running at present, right? Very few things were running at all anymore, after all. Yet the chest pounded once more, "tick tock, click clock." The owner recalled a fable she heard as a young child, the story of Pandora's box. She remembered the woman who unleashed the demons into the world. She often wondered if that was her ancestor. Old sayings like, "curiosity killed the cat" were found in what was left of old literature books she noticed scattered in crumbles of buildings. She often wondered if those were true literary novels or the crumpled remnants of a note one wrote to their child or partner in hopes of keeping something secret.

The days of secrecy were over. Now, humankind had been reduced to rats. Rats because of their scattered survival minds. Craving the next meal or the next sexual indulgence. Filth. Vermin. Scoundrels. She laughed thinking of a time where an imaginative notion like morality existed. The concept was foreign. Alluring, yes, but meant for a more comforting time. The chest sounded again. How often had she heard its clicks and ticks, yet unaware of what lay inside? She was always told it was better that way. It would have been exciting had it been a functioning bomb. Perhaps it would blow her away at any given point in time and this survival rat-like state would come to an end. Her mind would be fragmented in a shockingly different way. The thought made a psychotic grin spread at the corner of her face.

Was there anything more? She often wondered. Fantasies littered torn and decaying materials throughout the landscape. They included foreign concepts like large metallic sticks with shards of torn paper over them that displayed things like bright colored lips, technological products, and religious symbols or quotes. Those items didn't compare to the overgrown roots of trees now present. She had heard once that people were the reason the Earth had trouble healing. Mother Earth had healed properly when most people died out. She had heard stories of war, plagues, and famine. No messiah came. The people on Earth at the time must not have been worth saving. She believed it to be true based on the pieces of supposed evidence she found. Why did she search or long for something more? Maybe time could tell her the reason.

She realized she was a coward. She ventured away from her territory only for meals and occasional interactions with others. Her kin was composed of an ad-hoc family of individuals grouped together by circumstance and location what seemed like hundreds of years ago. Few outsiders were welcomed in, but she supposed they made their own neighborhoods by joining with other outsider tribes. She wondered why continuing a wretched species was worth the trouble, but she also understood the need to satisfy lusts and selfish desires.

What she spent most of her spare time doing instead was resting against the chest wondering about its contents. She could have found a way to open the chest, but then what game would she have left to play? Besides, it provided coverage in her hovel. Perhaps it was a generational treasure passed down and meant for someone else's family instead of hers, but she didn't care. It belonged to her now just like everything else in that dismal dwelling. "Click clock, tick tock."

"Thump Thump!," it cried once more with a fervor that made her want to hold it. For a moment, she imagined it having a human form with silken blonde hair. She wanted to run her hands through it. Her own contained muck, grease, knots, and tangles that would never come out. It was frayed with blunt ends she had cut herself with the large knife she used for protection. Her face was covered in ash, soot, and other filth. She was used to her own body odor and the odor of those around her. It helped her tell newcomers apart from the rest. Occasionally, there were group bathing sessions where members scrubbed the filth off one another. This turned into various intimate actions within their own kind. You never bathed alone. You must have the same communal scent to survive. She laughed at the animalism of such a thing.

Animalism also meant more horrifying things like stooping to cannibalism if hungry enough. She had heard of incidents where even lovers were consumed by their partner. The vulnerability of such action made it the perfect opportunity to strike. She was set on never becoming anybody's meal. Lovers were selected based on their strength, and she was determined to outmatch them every time. Devouring them, if necessary. If, and only if. She hoped it would never come to such a thing, but such things were common for other tribes. Somehow, she felt the unlikelihood of this within her own tribe made them better in some bizarre way. It also bred insecurities with handling the outside world. How much more ruthless than the other societies did she need to be to ensure she survived? Surely, they would have an advantage.

No one played victim here because no one cared. Victims were eaten, beaten, raped, or toyed with. You either grew stronger or you died. "Ba-thump, ba-thump" the noise murmured from the chest. She felt the chest quake against her back, but surely that was her imagination. Where was the comforting "tick tock" noise it usually made? The noise it was currently making sounded like her own heart. Was it her own heart? She put her hand to her chest then to the chest she leaned upon. The beats, patterns, and vibrations were different. She knew the all too familiar and unnerving pattern of the heart inside of her. Its beat was irregular, and its noise was only growing stronger. It belonged to one emotion: fear. She knew it would alert the others as hormones changed her scent pattern. Even subtle changes would cause a disturbance in her usual kin life. As her fear grew, so did the noise from the chest. She was no longer resting on it. The chest's beating pattern changed to match hers and became indistinguishable.

She began to cry with madness, and furiously began clawing at the object. It had to be opened. She must know what was inside. She clawed at the locked chest until her fingers appeared as bloody stubs. Bloody stubs that would attract various predators, both human and animal alike. Desperation overtook her fear. She remembered the knife. Had she been thinking clearly, she would have used it earlier to puncture her way through the wood. Now, she punctured the top of the chest and ripped it open.

The clock with the comforting tick tock noise was inside. It had an unusual, religious shape. It reminded her of an organ she had seen many times splayed in front of her. That organ was often picked at by vultures, coyotes, rodents, and the like. She had heard tales of objects such as clocks and watches. She had seen a few skittered on those strange paper-covered metal sticks that stood above buildings and some trees. She wanted to touch the object, but for now could only peer at it. The "thump thump" noise inside her own heart grew louder, and more painful. Something inside of her felt piercing and ravenous. How long had she been here? She wondered if she should have been counting the ticks to see how long she had been away from her kin. Had it been minutes, hours, or days? She had forgotten all about the fleeting thoughts regarding Pandora's box; and for however many moments had passed, she had forgotten about survival. Curiosity had been victorious.

She picked up with object. It was large and had unusual thickness. She dangled the chain. Was it to be worn as a necklace? The watch sounded once more, "tick tock, click clock" then pounded ferociously "BA-DUM. BA-DUM." A stabbing pain speared through to her heart with each pulse the object made. Something was inside the clock; something important, something dangerous, and something violent. She considered breaking it, but instead found a clasp. Perhaps this was a family heirloom prior to the breakdown of civilization. A locket, she believed they used to call them.

She opened the clasp. Once again, she had forgotten the tale of Pandora's box and the warnings it contained. Her head pounded and ached. She broke out in a fever that released sweat from her forehead and extremities. She was unusually hot and helpless. Could her kin not find her? Had she not been away long enough? Surely her body was wafting the warning signs it needed to signal them to rescue her.

Oh, wait. There were no victims in this life, and no heroes either. There was only the living, the dead, and those suffering or surviving in between. Living life for fleeting moments. She opened the locket's clasp. Lightning flashed before her eyes and blood pounded in her ears. They throbbed. The unusually shaped exterior of the locket told the story of what its inner contents held. Inside the locket was a very much alive, still beating heart surrounded by gears and electronics. It pulsed. With each pulse, the heart grew larger. The locket enlarged along with it.

She felt sick to her stomach. Her heart rate escalated. The heart within the locket mimicked the behavior. Their hearts beat as one. She heard a phantom's voice in the background.

"Aren't you hungry? Why don't you eat?" the voice slurred into a metallic-sounding grinding noise, as the young woman took her first bite. The gears discharged into the chest. Time stood still.

When the woman finished the heart, she felt it beat inside of her. The two hearts merged into one. A bright light flashed before her eyes once more. Memories of the past flooded through her mind. Memories of life and time she had never known. Memories that were not her own, but of a young blonde girl. Smiles, laughs, and the world as it was before the fall. The world that no longer existed.

A kin member found her ailing, decomposing body inside her hovel.

Another kin member murmured in horror, "What's that noise?"

"Tick tock, click clock. Thump Thump. Ba-dum Ba-dum."

"A sacrifice has finally been accepted." the other kin member said as a vile grin spread across his cheeks. He picked up the heart shaped clock locket. It had reverted to its original size and swung of its own accord like a pendulum.

"Tick tock, click clock. Thump Thump. Ba-dum Ba-dum."