“Hey, moron, don’t burn the house down,” my brother called, adjusting his scarf. Marissa walked into the room wearing an oversized black dress and hat. 

“You heard him, Mikey, don’t burn the house down. Only on Fridays.” Marissa paused. “Wait, today is Friday. Never mind, have at it.” She laughed a deep, throaty sound that sounded like it came from a bear. I hated Marissa for many, many reasons. After our parents died, she moved into our house as a live-in girlfriend. I don’t see how Patrick could stand her, she always wore heavy black make-up to match her depressing black outfits. Most of the time, she stayed in our guest room, but whenever Patrick got angry, she’d stay in his room to help him ‘calm down’. 

“Yeah, sure, sure,” I said, not looking up from my phone. With her over-the-top witchy appearance, it was hard not to stare at Marissa. I swear she’s a witch or demon. Maybe both.  I looked up to watch them leave when Marissa came back inside.

“Mikey, I know you really don’t like me, but please don’t go into my room, alright?” She asked sweetly, which was the only redeemable thing about her. She could laugh evilly, but her voice otherwise was as sweet as honey.

I looked back down at my phone and muttered a noise that could have been taken as a yes. Marissa smiled again, leaving and closing the door behind her. I could hear the click of the key as Patrick locked the door.

Today was going to be great because not only did I have the house to myself, but I had all the time in the world to snoop around. Marissa was hiding something that much was obvious. I was going to figure out what she was hiding, but for now, I just had to wait until they left. I can’t be caught off guard by Patrick forgetting something.

The car outside roared to life, and I could hear it driving away. I smiled, putting my phone in my pocket as I went down the hallway connecting our rooms. My room was right beside my parent’s, on the right side. My brother’s room was directly beside Marissa’s, thank god. I still went into my parent’s room just to think about them. Marissa got angry with me once about that. Something about ‘angering spirits’. 

I jiggled the door handle, but it didn’t budge. Marissa was smart enough to lock her door, but she wasn’t smart enough to get a lockpick-resistant lock. I went back into the kitchen to grab a small silver rod, meant once for a screwdriver, but the tip had long since worn down. I grabbed a few other trinkets on my way back, crouched down at the lock, and got to work. The lock came undone easily, the clicking sound like music to my ears. 

I’d never actually been inside her room before, and I’d also never gotten a peek inside. I expected it to be a dark room, lit only by candles. Skulls would line the shelves and ritual circles would be in the center of the room. That’s how I expected it. I held my breath and grabbed the doorknob, opening it slowly.

The inside was certainly not what I was expecting. It looked like a pretty normal room, with a large bed on one side and a desk on the other. The shelves that were in the room held mostly regular books and novels, with some titles like Dune and Beauty and the Beast. Certainly not what I was expecting. 

The air had a sense of dread to it, and it dampened my mood a little, but I was determined not to let that stop me. I walked over to her desk, which was covered in pages of writing, scribbles, and enough pencils to outnumber any kindergarten room. I flipped through some of the pages, but my mind couldn’t focus on what was written. Instead, I was drawn over to her closet. It seemed to beckon me over . . .  like it was calling me. 

I felt a calmness wash over me, lulling away any of the anxiety that I once had about snooping around. I opened the closet, and inhaled, biting down on my lips. The calmness that once was there was immediately replaced by pride.

This is what I’d been hoping for. Jars of some unknown substance were stacked on one of the shelves, small journals rested beside them. It smelled musty and dank like something had died in here a long time ago. 

A small box lay at the bottom, locked up with surprises, 3 different locks. Whatever was in there, Marissa did not want me to find. I picked it up and walked left her room, closing and locking everything. I even went through the trouble of arranging her desk to how it was before.

I went to my bedroom and sat the box down on my bed, and I just stared at it for a while. It was the most interesting thing I’d ever seen. The box was a mix of red and black, and the colors seemed to swirl whenever I took my eyes off it. The locks were all a deep magenta color, and emitted a small amount of light, as impossible as it seemed.

I pressed my finger to the lock and heard a chorus of whispers and voices before I passed out.

I woke up on the floor, with the worn-down carpet pressing into my cheek. I sat up to hear my brother pull into the driveway. I looked up at the clock. 7:48 PM. I’d been unconscious for about 5 hours. Whatever poison was on that lock was certainly potent. I slid the box under my bed along with the lockpicking kit and went outside to greet them.

“Hey! Mikey! Can you help me out with these bags?” Patrick asked, grabbing several paper bags from the trunk and walking into the house. Marissa was getting out of the car, and even I could tell that she has having a hard time in her heels.

“Can you help me?” She asked, looking into my eyes with her light-blue eyes. I sighed and walked over to where she stood and helped her out of the car.

“I can’t believe Pat chose to leave his girlfriend in the cold and take the bags in,” I said, making Marissa chuckle.

“I guess so. By the way, you didn’t go snooping around or anything, did you?” She asked, leaning on my arm.

“No, I have more important things to do. Such as switching the salt and sugar, or duct tape stuff. The best option, however, is going on a bit of a movie marathon, even though I couldn’t finish the whole set,” I lied, avoiding her pressing gaze. 

After I helped her into the house, I finished taking the rest of the bags inside. My mind was blurry, and I couldn’t stop thinking about that dumb box. What could be so important that it needed three locks?

I went back into my room, locking the door behind me. I pulled out the box from under the bed and stared at it for a while before I took out my lockpick. I heard someone whisper into my ear, “Let us out, and we’ll give you the family you truly deserve.” I nearly threw the box when I heard that, but I couldn’t seem to let go. I had to figure out what was inside that box.

I got each of the locks off one by one, and I got dizzier and dizzier with each second that passed. I opened it and heard screams from the other room. Someone was banging on my door repeatedly. But I stayed frozen in place. Blackness crept in the corners of my eyes, and I grew faint. 

I passed out after some time, with my brother and Marissa staring at me when I woke up, with creepily wide smiles, and dead, hollow eyes. That’s why I snuck away to write this, to send out a warning. There are more of those monsters out there, and all they want to do is replace real humans, to make their numbers grow. I can hear one of them coming toward my room now. I’m warning you: If a witch has a secret, whatever you do, do not try to figure it out. Ever. The last thing that this dying world needs are more of them. Spread this message, and make sure it gets out. And if you ever hear from this account again, know it’s not real. It’s one of the demons. They’ve been wanting to replace me for so long, and now it’s their chance. Be safe out there, everyone. Goodbye.