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Pandora's Box: Mortality
The sound of squeaking sandals notified me of my victim's presence. An old man slowly made his way down the street, his white hair almost transparent in the street light. Even though he was well into his nineties, this particular man refused to be inhibited by his old age. He was fooled into believing that his passing would occur in a few years. Unluckily for him, I was watching. And when I am near, that means that the time has come.
With his head down, he walked completely through me, dissipating my pale purple form into little wisps. He breathed in deeply and I was sucked into the man’s body, my form guided towards his lungs with the rest of the autumn air. I forced my way off the designated path and traveled to his heart, my objective for the night. What appeared before me was a healthy looking organ, recently put into place. I lightly tapped it with one of my wisps and immediately the once red heart dulled into a beige color. His breathing halted and I knew that my work was a success.
My existence was created solely for the purpose of inflicting punishment onto the humans. Instead of releasing evil into the world themselves, the gods decided to let one of the human bring about their own demise. And so it was decreed that all evils would be placed within a box, only to be released by a selected human.
Years passed within the small box, my only companions being the other evils. This lasted until the day of our release, which came relatively faster than expected.
On that fateful day, whispers circulated that Pandora was going to open our box. The curiosity that she was known for was finally making its appearance. My form flickered, the excitement I felt portraying itself through my magenta flames. Oh, how I could not wait to ruin the humans. The gods entrusted us with punishing them, and punishing in the most brutal way possible was something we evils do best.
The only one not excited about this news was Hope, her pale gold flame burning in the distance. She stood farthest away from the side of the box, almost as if the rest of us evils were toxic. I suppose we were, considering that Hope was on the other side of the so called “good” spectrum. My attention was diverted from her by the chanting that soon began.
“Let us out and release our evil into the world!” the evils yelled, united as one. Even though the box itself was solid and soundproof, we knew that Pandora heard us. Suddenly, the lid of the box was removed and bright sunlight blinded us. The light distracted us for only a second, and then we all rushed out, glad to be free of our prison.
I glimpsed inside my old dwellings and noticed Hope still in the box. She refused to leave and instead made herself comfortable. I was confused as to why she would be unwilling to leave her jail, but did not want to question it any further. Instead, I turned towards the fated human who ruined her own race.
Pandora’s famously beautiful face was filled with horror, her once curious bright eyes dulled with fear and dread. Her small mouth was agape, a scream releasing itself through the opening. Intrigued by the action, I decided to enter through the same way the scream was let out. I passed throughout her body, fascinated by the intricateness that surrounded me. Once I saw a small red organ cradled in the center of her chest, I knew what I had to do.
I gently caressed the muscle with one of my wisps, reveling in the pulse and heat generated from the muscle. Immediately it slowed down, its once rapid beat now calmer, more relaxed. I felt as if my work was done and exited, along the way noticing how much slower everything operated. Once I released myself from her body, I glanced at Pandora’s once forever ageless face, now ladened with tiny wrinkles. The age of the immortal man ended, and I, mortality, was the new bearer of death.
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The prompt for my Mythology and Allusion class was to write about an evil in Pandora's box. I decided to write about an lesser known evil: mortality.