Dre walked inside the old, decaying house.
It was abandoned by a family who moved away years ago. It hadn’t been touched since. The house had succumbed to nature in its age; vines held the house down on its foundation, and animals had gnawed holes in the walls. But the door for humans was open, so Dre walked in.
The floor creaked with every step he took. The wood beneath him seemed so fragile that he feared he may fall through. But he kept going through the foyer, past the decomposing chairs and rugs and into the living room.
A couch rotted in the middle of the floor. It faced a mold-covered wall with a less-dirty square in the middle where the TV must have been. Dre thought he could see movement from inside the torn cushions of the couch.
Pausing to take in the smell and surroundings, Dre looked up, where a broken light fixture struggled to stay hanging from the ceiling.
His phone vibrated. It was a text from his friend, Sam.
Are you in some abandoned house again? You can’t keep doing this.
Dre put the phone back in his pocket without responding, and carefully stepped around a broken table into one of the hallways.
The hallway led to a bedroom. This bedroom was as decrepit as the rest of the house, with floors wet from rot where the rain had seeped in through the broken roof. The bed, dusty and full of mold, was sure to house an army of bedbugs. Next to the bed, however, was a chest of drawers in perfect condition.
Dre’s phone buzzed again.
I’m serious, Dre. After what happened last time? Don’t do this.
Dre ignored the text and walked towards the chest of drawers. It was strangely clean and perfect amidst the mess. Without hesitation, Dre opened the top drawer and looked inside. His phone vibrated again, but he didn’t look to see what the text was. He had found what he was looking for. He reached in the drawer to pull it out.
The detectives said it’s dangerous. It will kill you. Please. Come back.
Dre held the orb in his hands. It was a red glass sphere that glowed and buzzed with warmth. He could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket. Sam must be calling him.
Dre stared into the orb intently, ignoring the call. He couldn’t draw his eyes off it. It became warmer in his hands, almost vibrating with energy. Dre sat on the old, rotten wood in front of the perfect chest of drawers and stared into the orb. He slowly moved it closer to his face, hoping to find some answer within the glass.
The last thing he remembered was a great surge of red light. Lying on the floor, he noticed a curious mouse in the corner, peeking into the room from his hole to see what the commotion was, before his vision fell into blackness.