Fiction: The Alice Box

Can’t remember how it began, I just remember it began.  They called it the Alice Box, it was shaped like a Colonial Tea Caddy; a simple oak octagonal box with, brass findings and a black metallic key in the lock.  I sat there and looked at the box, knowing my life would never be the same once I turned the black ominous key.  Crime after the lockdown of the American City State took a turn for the worse, internal terrorists would not allow their freedom to be secured for their own safety; and I was the cop who was crazy enough to get mixed up in this mess.  The Alice Box was made in cooperation with Alchemists and Scientist, maybe they believed this box could turn the steel metal of the city, back into its Golden Age.   I looked at the key and finally decided I can’t turn back and I reached and turned the key.   I began to feel a burning in my hand, I could not release the key from my grasp and I could smell my flesh burning, as the key melted away.  My burned hand ached as I rushed to put it under cold water, and through the shimmering crystal water I could see a metallic gold tattoo of a key branded on my hand.  I grabbed a towel to dry my hands and went back to look at that forsaken box and dried my hands over it.  I then heard the click and then the grinding of gears as the box opened showing eight metal drawers, attached to the first drawer was a  small piece of parchment.  I hadn't seen paper since 2030, so I delicately lifted it up to read it.  Its fibrous texture felt odd but yet comforting under my fingertips.  The paper had a note written in very neat handwriting that said, “All good change begins with a single person, and a drop of heartfelt blood. Godspeed-M”  I placed the paper back into the Alice Box, and a needle jumps out pricking my palm, dripping crimson life onto the paper.  The Alice Box closes and my Journey for Freedom just begins.