I found it in the woods

              I found it in the woods. It was buried in the ground, but not well enough. I wish I had just left it there, but curiosity got the better of me.

         I was walking my dog Max that night. The night I found it. Well, I walk him every night after dinner. Every night at the same time. It’s turned into a bit of a ritual for me to take the dog for a walk through the west woods. It calms me down. Gives me time to think about everything that’s happened that day and wind down for the evening. I never saw it before but of course, it might have been covered with leaves or maybe it had only been left there the night before. I should have left it there.

         It wasn’t late, only seven or eight o’clock. The sun had just gone below the tree line. I was walking along the main trail while max was running in circles around me. Occasionally dropping sticks at my feet to throw for him. He’s a Black and white collie dog given to me by my dad on my 18th birthday. My dad got him, thinking collie dogs were meant to be cleaver, but I think poor Max is the exception to this rule. Every now and then Max will run off to chase a squirrel or rabbit just to return soon after with a look of disappointment on his face after it gets away from him. He never has managed to catch one of them and if he ever did, I doubt he would know what to do with it.

That night was no different. He ran ahead chasing a squirrel, that darted up a tree and away from him. Max charged up to the base of the tree before skidding to a halt and immediately redirecting his attention to something on the ground by the trees exposed roots. He timidly moved closer, head lowered, sniffing the air. I assumed it was probably a dead animal or something and shouted out for him to leave it. Of course, Max ignored me and moved in closer, until he let out a traumatised squeal, jumping in the air, then backing off to a safe distance, whimpering in fear. By that point I was running towards him. Thought whatever it was must have still been alive and bit poor Max on the nose. When I got to the tree, expecting to see a badger or fox. At first, I saw nothing. So, I went over to Max, cowering next to a smaller tree and tried to comfort him. He was trembling all over, his gaze still fixed at the base of the tree. I looked back across hoping to see what was holding his attention. That’s when I noticed it. Not an animal at all. Something buried in the ground. Something made of wood.

I moved closer for a better look, wondering why Max was so scared. Only one corner was showing, and it was hard to tell exactly how big the thing was. It was made of a dark brown wood with some kind of detail carved into it. It almost blended into the ground around it, yet seemed so obvious once I had seen it. I instantly wanted to know what it was and the closer I got the more I was drawn to the item. Before I knew it, I was knelt at the base of the tree digging furiously into the ground with my hands until I could get a good look at it.

A wooden lid split down the centre with intricate carvings adorned on both sides. It was a box, roughly twelve inches across and maybe eight inches deep. There were no visible hinges or latches, just beautiful carvings and text in a language I’m unable to read. I lifted it out of the hole it was sat in. Loose soil fell into the void it had created. It had been put there recently. As I inspected the box more closely cleaning it off as I went, I wondered who might have put it there, and why. There was no obvious way to open the box that I could see, so I assumed it was a puzzle box. I have heard stories of people making modern day treasure hunts and if this was part of something like that there could be a large prize or reward for finding it. I had talked myself into taking the box home with me before I even realised it. I knew at home I could clean it up properly and do some research. I wanted to open it. I wanted to know what was inside.

I took the box straight home. Max at my side, still skittish and wary of the object I was carrying. I spent hours cleaning and inspecting the box. The carvings on the box looked like flowing flowers to me when it was in the ground but now it was clean, I saw the images of cloaked figures lining up in rows. I tried to do some research about if there were any treasure hunts supposedly occurring in the local area but found nothing. I looked up languages to see if I could figure out what language the text was but had no luck. Max never went near the box, just watched from a distance, staring at it. After hours of deliberation and intense investigation I happened to check the clock on the mantelpiece to read 3:15. I had no idea it was that late or should I say early? I had to be up for work at eight so called it a night and placed the box on a side table next to the sofa and went up to bed.

I woke up at 7:54 to Max whining and scratching at the bedroom door. Max sleeps in my room on a night. In his own bed under the window. I always let him out to the garden before bed so he can do his business and that usually holds him until the morning. I assumed the stress from the night before must have messed with his routine and he just needed to go outside. So, I took him downstairs and opened the back door to let him out, but he didn’t go out. He lay on the floor of the kitchen staring into the living room, growling. I closed the back door and walked over to look into the living room. There on the coffee table was the box. I was sure I had left it on the side table next to the sofa but it was a late night so I must have moved it without realising. The strange thing was that the box was now open. The two flaps of the lid were folded out to the sides, leaving the box wide open. For a moment I wondered if someone had broken into the house but who would break into someone’s house just to solve a puzzle box and then leave without stealing anything.

Slowly I edged closer to the coffee table. The box perfectly placed in the centre and now open. This was my chance to see what was inside. Imagine my disappointment when I looked inside to see absolutely nothing. Just an empty wooden box. I was so confused and after only a few hours’ sleep, feeling tired and needing to get ready for work, I pulled myself together and prepared for the day. I tried to get max to go outside before I left but he refused to move an inch. I only work half days because I can do a lot of my work from home so I decided he would be ok until I got back. On the way to work I thought about how the box ended up open like that, still confused how it had even got onto the coffee table. I was so sure where I had left it. Maybe it was on some kind of timer or springs that were jammed up by dirt until I had cleaned it. The scary thought was that someone saw me take the box and they had broken in just to take back the contents. Whatever the case was, I decided to get rid of it somehow. Max was so scared of it, that it was unfair to him to keep it around. Poor Max. I wondered if he was still sat there growling at an empty box.

A few hours at work seemed to go so slowly. All I could think about was the box. What was it? Why was it buried? Maybe there was more to it. What if I missed something in the box? A secret compartment or inscription to explain. I was too tired that morning to think about it but after three large cups of coffee at work, I was feeling much more alert. I decided I should take another look at it when I got home. Do a bit more research and if I still couldn’t figure it out, I would take it to a charity shop.

I had stopped off to get food on the way home and had my arms full of bags. After fiddling with my keys and stumbling through the door, I shouted out to Max and looked across the living room. It was a complete mess. Papers and letters sprawled across the floor everywhere. Cupboards and draws left open. Sofa pillows thrown across the room. The whole place had been ransacked, and the box was gone. My first concern was for Max. I shouted out for him again, but he didn’t come running. I couldn’t see him from the front room and he wasn’t where he had been sat in the morning. My house is almost open plan downstairs so I can see the whole living room and most of the kitchen. There is just a wall separating the small dining area and the stairs. I was hoping Max was hiding under the table or had gone upstairs. All the doors and windows looked untouched and the house was deathly silent. I hurried into the kitchen so I could see around the wall to check under the dining table for Max. He wasn’t there but something else was. The box. Now it was on the dining table. Untouched and in pristine condition, still open and empty. I was more concerned about Max than that stupid box, that by this point I would have been happy for someone to steal it off me. I ran upstairs checking all the rooms, calling out for Max the whole time. Sometimes when he gets scared, he hides under my bed, so without wanting to startle him, I crouched down and lifted the sheets to peek under the bed.

Not there either. That’s when I heard faint movement coming from the small en suite bathroom. I approached the door slowly. It could be Max, but it could also be the person who broke in. I reached for the door handle and twisted it slowly and as quietly as I could. My element of surprise was gone when I realised the door was locked from the inside and all I could do was rattle the handle. It can’t be Max. Unless he has learnt how to lock doors.

‘I know you’re in there. I’ve called the cops and I’m prying the lock from the outside,’ I shouted.

I hadn’t called the cops, but I could open the lock. I had to do it in the past, when a friend passed out in there once. I went back into the spare room to get a screwdriver I had left in there, then stomped quickly back to my bedroom to free the lock. It didn’t take long to slide the lock open. Then with the screwdriver now as a weapon I flung the door open. Instantly a large dark shape charged at me, knocking me to the ground. A big wet tongue licked the side of my face. It was Max. He scared the life out of me. How he managed to get himself locked in the bathroom I hadn’t a clue. I was just thankful he was ok and he seemed extremely happy to see me too.

I took another lap of the house, checking all the rooms again. Max stayed close by my side. I straightened up each room as I went and soon had the house looking reasonable. There wasn’t a lot of actual damage. One broken figurine that I wasn’t fond of anyway and a chip in the plaster of the living room where something had been thrown against the wall but thankfully most of it was just mess. I thought about calling the police, but I couldn’t see anything that had been taken and there was no sign of a brake in whatsoever. I knew this had to be connected to the box somehow. Somebody must have broken in and seen the box was open and tried to find the contents. I was more confused than ever. So many possibilities ran through my mind. It had to be the box, it was too much of a coincidence.

I took it back through to the front living room and placed it back down on the table in front of me. I wanted to take it out the back and smash it into a hundred pieces, but I couldn’t shake the idea that I was missing something. If people know I have the box, they might come back to find it. What if they found out I had smashed it? I was over thinking things and I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I took one last look at the inside of the box to check there wasn’t anything I was missing, then closed the lid. The moment I did all the lights in the house flickered into blackness. It was a chilling coincidence. Max jumped up and started pacing around the room. I tried to calm him down but he was terrified. I took him to the back door and as soon as it was open wide enough for him to squeeze through, he was gone and off he ran into the trees behind my house. He never goes far, and I know there is a fence along the other side so he couldn’t get out onto a main road or anything, so I wasn’t too worried. At least he can get away from whatever was scaring him. It was almost like he knew what was about to happen.

It was early evening, so there was still light outside but it was a dull day and the house windows are small and don’t let much light in. I found my way to the small under stairs cupboard in the dining room and reached in to flick the fuse back on, hoping it was just a bulb that had blown. As I reached into the cupboard, I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck. Startled, I jumped backwards and spun around expecting to see somebody stood there. Nothing. Just a dim grey room, still and empty. I brushed it off and reached into the dark void once more. The switch clicked on and the lights with it, creating a comforting yellow glow around my shadows silhouette. The feeling of comfort soon vanished when I saw the shadow of a hand reaching out from behind me. Once again I spun around expecting the worst. The room looked normal and empty. My mind must have been playing tricks on me. For a moment I just stood there convincing myself it was the stress and lack of sleep. A beer to help me relax I thought. So, I went to the fridge and pulled out a cold beer from the back. As I closed the fridge the lights flickered again and for a second, I thought I saw a shadow stood in the corner of the room. I had worked myself up into a right state by this point and was ready to run out the back door to join Max. Still, I tried to convince myself it was nothing. I turned out of the kitchen to face the living room. The bottle of beer dropped out of my hand and smashed across the floor. My eyes remained fixed in place. I was looking at the box. The box that I had closed moments before was now open again.

At that moment I knew the box had to go. I then knew why the box was buried in the woods and that I had to put it back. It, knew it too. I took one step towards the box and the papers I had picked up earlier flung themselves across the room in front of me. Then all the kitchen cupboards started opening and closing on their own. The draws flew off their rails, spilling the contents all over. I had to get the box. I took another step closer and a force of tremendous pressure hit me square in the chest, knocking me backwards into the puddle of spilt beer and broken glass. As I looked up, I saw a swirling black shadow, hovering in the corner of the room. It was like a cloud of black smoke and even though it had no face, I could tell it was looking right at me. I was in complete shock. All around me objects were flying across the room. Outside, Max was barking and howling. I had to get the box, which was now shaking violently, out of the house. I picked myself up and dove across the room towards the open box. The black smoke like mist darting towards me. I grabbed the box and fell to the floor with my eyes closed waiting for that thing to hit me.

The room went still. I eased open my eyes and looked down at the box a was grasping in my arms. The box lid was closed. I wasn’t taking any chances. That box wasn’t leaving my sight until it was deep in the ground. With the box firmly under one arm I went outside to the shed wrapped an old bike chain around the box, picked up a shovel and went for a walk. I soon found the spot where I had originally found the box. I dug the hole much deeper. Placed the box inside and buried it back in the ground. Since that night, nothing strange has happened and Max is back to his usual happy self. We don’t walk in the west woods anymore and to anyone who finds a box buried in the woods, leave it there.