The Locket

The cacophony of the forest quieted placidly, as if time had stopped. The only aberrations were the small ripples gliding gracefully away from the luminous necklace sinking slowly into the watery depths of the pond. Glittering and glowing, the necklace drifted softly to the muddy pond floor. Even the trees seemed to sense the moribund evil pulsing from within the locket. The bottom of the pond soon became desolate, and within a couple inches' radius of the necklace only blackened clumps of algae remained. Only one morbid fish dared to venture down to the gleaming chain, and the seared, acrid corpse crumbled as soon as the malevolent, dark particles reached into it's heart.

**********

“Sara, look at this!” crowed Michael, “I think it's some sort of coin.”

Sara ambled over to where Michael stood, stopping to giggle at a couple of squirrels chasing each other around a tree, one deftly eluding the other. Squinting into the pond, she could faintly make out the innocent and now lackluster shape of a heart.

“No, it's a locket, silly,” proclaimed Sara, “It's all dirty, too. I wonder what it would look like, all cleaned up.”

“I'll go get it for you,” Michael said amicably, “but mother would be upset if I got my clothes dirty again,” he worried, remembering what had happened the last time he had returned home in repugnant, dirty, stinking clothes.

“Use my butterfly net,” suggested Sara with innovation, “It's getting old, anyway.”

Michael took Sara's butterfly net and dipped it into the pond, sending ripples across the previously still water. The stiff hoop knocked the rusting metal out of the silt and decaying algae and into the white net. Michael flipped the contents of the butterfly net onto the grass. Both children stared.

“What happened to my net?” cried Sara.

The bottom of the net had a heart-shaped burn. The once verdant area around where the locket landed was now full of crisp and blackened strands of grass. Wisps of acrimonious smoke drifted from the scorched soil and made Michael's eyes sting as he bent over the necklace.

“This is really weird,” whimpered Sara.

“It's okay. It's just a necklace,” murmured Michael benevolently, but unknowingly erroneously. He knew Sara would probably impugn his reassurances, so he reached down to pick up the locket to show her that it was harmless.

“Wait!” shrieked Sara when she realized what he was about to do, but she was too late. Michael's fingers closed around the burning metal heart and instantly turned black. The voracious blackness consumed his arm and over the rest of his body, not allowing Michael any time to scream. The black started flaking off to reveal a deep, pulsating, glowing red. Michael writhed and made muffled sounds of agony, then rolled into the pond to trying to relieve the incisive pain penetrating deep into his heart and ripping across his skin.

As soon as he hit the water, most of the scorched skin peeled off and the glowing red subdued to an ashen gray. Michael rolled out of the water and stumbled over to Sara. She stared at his vacuous gray eyes, not seeming to focus on her or on anything.

“How could you let this happen to me?” the now pugnacious Michael shouted hoarsely. He stepped forward belligerently and menacingly, black flakes swirling off his skin.

“I didn't burn you, the loc--”

“Why are you blaming it on the locket?” Michael thought it was ludicrous of Sara to think that the silly little locket had anything to do with anything. And why was she looking at him so strangely?

“Are you okay?” Sara questioned, then realized that there was a very obvious answer, “No, evident that you're not. Your skin's gray and you're acting strange.”

“Let's see how you feel!” Michael exclaimed as he hurled the locket at Sara.

“No!” she shrieked, but the blackness was already spreading.