Toybox (Patreon)

Toybox

You sit in a dark room with a large, aged table in front of you. The table is made of dark, splintered wood, and you see nothing but shadows and people around you. You are not alone. All around you are other patrons. They are likewise seated and waiting. Each is wearing a mask of anonymity and are difficult to see. There is no light save for a single beam of light falling from the ceiling atop the table in front of you.

A new figure appears from the darkness. They are unnaturally tall and move with ethereal grace. They wear a long, dark cloak that is torn at the ends, and you can see no details of their body, but you imagine them to be long-limbed and inhuman. They wear a mask not unlike yours, except their mask covers their entire face and is featureless. It doesn’t even have holes for eyes.

The figure glides forward to the table, and their tattered cloak billows out before them. The cloak falls over the table and conforms to the table’s shape. When they remove their cloak, however, you find a large wooden chest where their cloak had been. The chest is unlike the table in that it is well-crafted and polished. The wood has been stained green and polished golden filigree is woven into the seams. A large lock sits at the front of the chest with a fat gleaming ruby at its center. The cloaked figure drifts around the table and stands before the chest. Its cloak seems to defy the light which shines down over it, but its white mask gleams like sunlight.

“Welcome,” it says, though it has no voice to speak of. As it speaks, its words form as full thoughts in your head. It has no cadence, no gender and no sex. Its thoughts are simply your thoughts, and you glean understanding by experiencing them.  “Each of you have been invited to this private showing as patrons of the Creator. I am the Curator, and today I will display to you the stories which you will be given opportunity to vote on.”

Their cloak drags as they move about the table again. As they move, you find that the chest has been unlatched and the top has been peeled back. The interior is dark and, at a glance, fathomless. Even looking at it gives the feeling of an empty universe simply waiting to be filled. The Curator stops behind the chest and says, “This is our toybox, the place where we store our stories, mature them and grow them. Today, you will be given five stories to pick from, though rest assured, there are hundreds, if not thousands, still maturing.”

They reach into the chest and produce from inside a small, plastic ring. The ring is gold in color and has a fine yellow script written across it. The script is foreign in design and entirely indecipherable to you. In fact, the yellow of the runes written upon it seems to blend into the ring and appears to your eyes only at certain angles. The Curator places the ring on the table as if on display and begins speaking again.

“The first story is Draupnir, the tale of a married man now betrayed. He has two daughters, a dead-end job and a wife who no longer loves him, but he finds a ring which can fix all of this should he allow it to. Should he wear the ring, then he will become a king, and he will be granted more rings which can make those who wear them into his queens. With eight rings total, who will wear them? Who will he rule?”

The Curator reaches into the chest a second time and produces another toy. Dragging their cloak along the table, they leave a glass eye beside the ring. The eye is of natural size and shape and is almost lifelike at a glance, save for the way it catches and throws the light. The iris is brown with spider-web striations of pink and red like tiny fissures across the interior of the glass.

“Our next tale is Deus. It is a story of sex and revenge. A missing prince returns with an unholy power and seeking revenge for his exile. Using cock and cunning, he aims to take his father’s throne regardless of what he must do to seize it.” An inhuman echo of laughter bounces around your skull. “At a time, this story had been playfully called D&D: Damsels and Deepthroating.”

A third toy is produces from the toybox and left beside the eye. This toy is a standard silver rocket ship that is wider and pointed at one end and tapered at the other. The ship has three silver fins extending from the base which the Curator leaves it standing on and two circular windows staring out at you. The words “Seeker of Paradise” are painted across the ship’s side.

“For our third story, Lost Paradise, we find ourselves on the planet Nod, where the colony ship Seeker of Paradisehas crash landed. No one was killed, but the ship’s mechanical systems have largely malfunctioned, and only a single young man has woken from his cryogenic sleep. Untested and untried, he must find a way to wake the others and build a home there, but the planet is strange and is doing strange things to his body.”

The fourth toy the Curator produces is larger than the others. It is a set of gray, plastic manacles with thick plastic chains attached. The chains are broken at the end and do not connect. Upon further inspection, there appears to be blood inside of the manacles as you examine them.

“Our fourth story is called Dark Whispers. It follows the struggle of a young black man who has moved to the deep south with his mother. They have bought a home built in the shadow of a plantation house, on the soil where slaves were worked to death to provide for their masters. At night, whispers of this young man’s ancestors haunt him and endow him with the strength and fury required to seek vengeance for their grief and build a home for himself in the exposed bones of what once was.”

“Finally…” The Curator reaches into the chest one last time and produces a tall plastic jar. The jar is corked and inside is red epoxy with a liquid sheen. The contents of the jar do not move but have the appearance of a potion. The jar is left beside the manacles on the table as the Curator finishes their thought. “Our final story is A Philosopher’s Gift. It is the story of a studious young woman waking up after her first and only party ever only to find that she has been gifted a…sizable tool. Now equipped, she must figure out who gave it to her and for what end, but a growing lust distracts her and new urges plague her as she fights for clarity.”

The Curator flares their cloak as if extending their arms and showcases the five toys left. “These are the five stories now presented. Those of you lucky enough to be chosen may cast your vote: Draupnir,” the Curator indicates the ring; “Deus,” the eye; “Lost Paradise,” the ship; “Dark Whispers,” the manacles; “Or A Philosopher’s Gift,” the potion.