For months now, Steven had been trying to open the box but could not make heads or tales of the strange little thing. the box was approximately 15 inches in diameter, dark brown wood, with markings on each side. The markings on it made no sense to him, on one side it had three squiggly lines with a dot in the middle, on the other a horrible depiction of a humanoid looking octopod with wings, on the third, a strange and somehow fear-inducing star with an eye in the middle, on the fourth was a drawing of what looked to be a mass of tentacles with mouths and eyes in random places along a malformed body, and on the lid some sort of pentagram with seemingly nonsensical lines running through it.

He tried every method he could think of, which included trying to smash it against a wall, but to no avail, the thing remained undamaged and unopened. What had started as a small trinket that occupied a portion of his free time had turned into an obsession which occupied his waking hours as well as his dreams. He would often find himself mindlessly fiddling with the box, twisting it this way and that, trying almost desperately to unlock its mystery.

One night while he lay in his bed twisting and turning the box, looking for some sort of button he could press or any sort of keyhole he could pick, by some accident he managed to find a small button by following the lines on the pentagram. something clicked from within the box, the sound had been so faint that he was not completely sure he had heard it. So he went on for countless hours twisting and turning the box every which way he could think of, feeling along every line and contour, but he could not get it to reproduce the click he was now certain he had heard. The click was the thing that pushed him over the edge.

The sun was beginning to rise as he stopped and put the box down. He began to get ready for the day, He had one foot out the door when suddenly he was struck with a sense that if he were to continue trying to open the box today would be the day it happened. Steven did not usually miss work due to any reason, but today he called in and complained of some sudden illness that had befallen him. With his work taken care of, he sat and pondered the box for most of the day. At half-past three in the afternoon his stomach started to let him know that it was not at all pleased with the lack of food he was providing, so, with great difficulty, Steven put the box on the table, got up, and went to prepare something to eat. Once his stomach was satisfied he resumed his work with the box.

It was close to eleven o'clock that night when he finally made a breakthrough, it had clicked four times, when he had pressed the middle of the star with sufficient force, almost enough to break his finger, then had become extremely hot to the touch making it impossible to hold any longer. Steven sat looking at the box for untold hours wondering if that was all the box would do, or if he had somehow, finally, managed to break it. The sun was beginning to creep into his room when, in a sudden fit of rage, he grabbed the box, ignoring the pain, and threw it across the room. The box landed in a patch of light that was coming in through the window. Steven got up and started to get ready for the day, he had finally set his mind to forget about the frustrating box. When out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a brightness coming from it. he picked it up, noting how it was now cold to the touch, and looked it over to see where the light was coming from.

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Upon examination, he determined that the light was coming from a small hole where the eye of the star used to be. Steven hesitated for a moment, doubting whether or not he should look into the hole, he was stricken with the dreadful sense that whatever was in that box, was not for mortal eyes. After a moment the thought fled his mind and a sudden calm assurance came over him. the moment of doubt forgotten, without a second thought, Steven looked through the hole. What he saw he could not explain even if he were to be given a thousand years to do it, for it would be akin to trying to explain what color is to the blind. Steven found himself staring at the most magnificently hypnotizing color he had ever witnessed. So gloriously rich was the color, that Steven immediately closed his eyes and reeled back, dropping the box. Steven had been stricken with such intense mental pain that it seemed like a physical blow had stricken him, such was the pain that he fell upon the floor wheezing, for all of the breath within his lungs had been knocked out of him.

After the moment of blinding, mind-shaking pain had subsided, Steven cautiously opened his eyes. What he found once his eyes were opened horrified him to his very core. The world as he knew it was gone, replaced by a world of Grey, black, and white. Steven sat where he had fallen simply looking at the world around him, screaming internally. After hours of horrifying paralysis, something strange occurred, Steven came to the horrifying realization that the light had not made him colorblind, the light was simply of such a glorious, beautiful, magnificently mesmerizing color, that it had made every other color dull in comparison. For the rest of his life, he would be forced to view the world as a dull, dark, dreary place. Never again would he be enchanted by the vibrant colors he once knew. never again would he marvel at any of the world's wondrous, beautiful, life-filled vistas. Steven lived the rest of his life in an inescapable depression, cursing ever having acquired that wretched box, which had mysteriously disappeared soon after it had done its damage.