"Damn. I'm so tired." Carl yawned and casually placed his phone on his bedside, he laid down on his comfy bed, tugging himself in. The tired young adult closed his eyes.
"vroom! vrooom! bark! bark! vrooom!" The sounds of motorcycles and dogs arrived to interrupt his sleep as scheduled.
He groaned. Before complaining quietly, "Seriously. Can they just- not race for a single night?" "vroom! vrooom! vroooom!" "Alright, that's it, if these morons keep being so loud, I'd rather get a soundproof room. I would be happy to trade my comfy bed just to not hear them anymore."
"VROOOOOM!"
Carl pursed his lips with an irritated frown, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. After tossing and turning on his bed for more than an hour. He drifted to blissful sleep.
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After another restless sleep like all his previous nights, Carl woke up with a stunning realisation, he was no longer on his bed. In fact. He was laying down on the cold, and hard floor. He, as any normal teenager, who found themselves somewhere unfamillar and having no recollections of how they ended up there, immediately cursed. "The fuck?!" Carl pushed himself up and accidently slammed his back into a wall, invoking a yelp for his aching shoulders. He carefully massaged them in pain.
Looking around the room- No, the box he was in. He found that there were no windows or doors. Only four walls, the floor, and the ceiling. All of them in the same white color, and they seemed to give off a dim light. The utterly confused human spat out more profanities, "What the actual fuck is going on!?" He yelled and slapped the wall with all his might, "This is bullshit! Why does this shit feel harder than fucking concrete!" Carl looked around, scared and confused. He took in a deep breath, before shouting, "FUCK! FUCK YOU! WHOEVER YOU ARE! LET ME OUT!" He continued roaring pointlessly until he ran out of breath, panting heavily, his hands trembling in fear. He clenched his fists and punched the wall, then he yelled in pain, grasping his hand with the other one, "Ah shit! SHIT!" Blood seeped out of his knuckles, he blew on them with a shaky breath.
He closed his eyes, trying to distract himself from the pain, "Calm down Carl, stop being so angry, there is no point in injuring yourself needlessly, first, you need to confirm if you're safe." He opened his eyes and glanced around, " yeah, nothing getting inside anytime soon." Carl paused to look down at his injured hand. After carefully wiping away the blood, he saw that it was only a skin wound. He slowly moved his fingers, then closing and opening his fist. It seemed he didn't break his bones from the punch. The relieved teenager let out a sigh of relief.
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Just as he was about to close his eyes again, he noticed brownish brownish specks on the walls, "Huh, what's this?" He wiped his hand across the wall, taking a closer look and feel at material, he exclaimed, "This is dirt! Wait... How does that help me exactly?" He sighed. Carl clicked his tongue, "well, I might as well recite the words." He took a deep breath, "Status, Skills, Stats, Menu, Command, Help, System, Accept, Logout, Sign-in, Tutorial, Skip, Start, Pause, Leave." He sighed at the end, "Inventory."
To his surprise, a grey window appeared before his eyes, he held his breath. Looking down at the dirt in his hands, and then back up at the floating screen. He shoved his hands through it.
Dirt 0.03
Carl smiled. He could work with this. Just the fact that he could store things with a magical storage window. It fiiled him with hope. He would escape from this place, and this ability will be an important tool to help him break out of this box.