Ironically Enough, This Has Nothing To Do With Any Previous Posts On 8-Balls

Mankind's history is rife with horrific tales of supernatural occurrences and hauntings,narratives so terrifying that the very blood in your veins curdles and runs icy. I had a chance occurrence today with such a dark and evil force. One can never expect a meeting such as this, but the mark it left on my soul will be felt for ages to come.

Quite unexpectedly I found myself in possession of two small yet identical boxes. They were nondescript in nature, black with red striping and a single word, "Prime", emblazoned upon them. They were rather unceremoniously deposited on my desk, no word of explanation given, no note left, merely two boxes left by my keyboard while I was away.

Seeing the boxes threw my mind into a quizzical fit. What were they carrying? What payload of delight or misery was contained within? Would it be a gift befitting a king? A tiny hive of hornets laid as a trap intended to bring harm should I open them?

I found myself mulling over whether or not they should be opened for quite awhile, fear of the unknown pulsing through my body. At last I resolved myself to attempt just one, under the rationale that deadly traps are unlikely to have been lain upon me by my coworkers.

So, with moderately trepidatious fingers I pried open the first box in order that I may cast eyes upon its contents. At last, once the top flap had been pulled back I was able to divine what was within. It was a magic 8-ball.

Finding myself somewhat relaxed at the dearth of deadly insects springing forth at me, I rolled the 8-ball around in my hands, getting a feel for its shape, an almost electric tingling of otherworldly power seemed to surge through it.

Being the curious type I could not help but ask it a question, as that is its very raison d'etre. So, summoning all of the mental concentration I could I focused my mind on the ball and made my query.

The question was this:

"Is there another magic 8-ball in the other box?"

Imagine the frigid bolt of terror that shot through my frame upon the word "YES" making it's way through the ether in the bottom of the ball. It burned itself into my retinas and imprinted itself upon my powerless brain.

The only thought that remained was the ball. The ball and its power. Its ability to divine the future, to see through the cloudy veil of uncertainty to pinpoint with amazing clarity the events which have yet to transpire.

Needing to know full well whether or not this item possessed unholy powers, I turned my attention from the ball as I began feverishly clawing at the second box.

Whether I hoped to disprove the omens of the first, I do not know. But the resolve to determine one way or the other tore at my essence until I beheld the contents of the second box.

It was, indeed, another magic 8-ball.

Sickness permeated my being and I choked back the hot retching that threatened to betray to my coworkers just how tenuous my mental state had become.

How had it known? How could it POSSIBLY have known what was in that second box? Did it receive its knowledge from a source beyond my comprehension? Was its knowledge absolute or were there limits imposed?

In desperation I cried out to the second 8-ball, hoping once again to disprove the evil magic that was obviously at work in these malicious devices. Hoping beyond hope that I could trip it up, I asked the second this question:

"Did the first box I opened also contain a magic 8-ball?"

Need I even tell you what answer swam to the surface? At the emergence of those three hideous letters I tore from my office, clawing at my face and screaming in ever strengthening waves of terror.

It is two hours since and I have only now began to calm myself. I don't know if they are still on my desk, waiting for me to return, mocking me with their simple form which belies the horrendous and nefarious powers that they summon. I hope to never see them again.

I fear what will happen if I do.