Chapter Two: Trust

Orwen decides to trust his Uncle and excitedly opens the ornately decorsted box.

After yanking off the ribbon and throwing back the lid of the box, Orwen is startled by a sudden movement from within. There is a flash of red, black, and yellow; a sharp stinging sensation on the underside of his arm; and a clatter as he drops the lid onto the box. Indignant, he storms out of his apartment and down the stone stairwell. At the bottom he pauses a moment to steady himself as he feels a slight wave of nausea and dizzyness. His Uncle's study door stands at the bottom of another wide flight of stairs, and he finds his way there before another wave hits him, harder this time. As he stumbles into his Uncle's study with the box in one hand, staggering like a drunkard, his indignation is slowly replaced with confusion. He begins to demand an apology for the nasty trick gift, but instead his tongue fills his mouth, swollen. He collapses against a wooden armchair. His Uncle Thoreau steps quickly to the door and closes it with a snap.

"My dear, dear nephew! What seems to be ailing you? A little too much wine?" he coos in Orwen's ear, prying the box from his stiffening fingers. He drops it carefully among the flames in the fireplace. An angry hissing erupts from the box as it melts and crackles into ash. Thoreau turns to his nephew, now lying still on the floorboards.

"Oh dear, I do believe you have fallen right into my little trap. Too bad no one saw you open the box or will even suspect that something other than a sudden heart attack befell you. It was almost too easy, Orwen." Thoreau sighs dramatically, steps to the door and throws it open with a shout.

"Help! Orwen! Something terrible has happened!"

Orwen gasps his final breath deep within the fog of confusion as the poison finally reaches his heart.

The End