Story: Cartographer's Blight - Part 1
Jacob’s Living Room, Saturday Afternoon
The A/C hums while sun through the slider lifts dust over the coffee table. Jacob sprawls on the L-shaped sofa, one knee up, phone loose in his hand. Olive tee rumpled like it skipped the hanger, dark jeans faded at the knees; messy brown hair catching the light around sharp cheekbones, a worn leather bracelet easing along his wrist when he shifts.
Opposite him, Brennan leans in, elbows on knees, hands loosely clasped. Faded black graphic tee and charcoal skinny jeans creased sharp at the knees. Straight blond fringe brushing pale brows. Fair and lanky, his blue eyes slide back to Jacob in slow, deliberate passes.
Between them on the coffee table sits a small, tarnished brass box, about the size of a paperback book. Its surface etched with shallow geometric engravings that almost look like floor plans if you squint. The lines don’t quite match, mismatched like they were borrowed from a dozen different buildings and stitched together. The metal feels faintly warm when touched, though neither of them has handled it since Brennan set it down earlier.
Outside, the distant rattle of skateboard wheels drifts in from the street. Chris and Danny making their way up to the house.
Jacob shifts forward, pulling his legs off the couch so he can lean toward the coffee table. His thumb swipes across his phone, the faint reflection of a search page flickering in his eyes.
"Nothing," he mutters, aimlessly scrolling further. "Closest I’m getting is antique jewelry boxes, and none of them have... whatever this is."
He glances at the brass engravings again, tracing the mismatched floor plan lines in the air with his finger.
"Looks like someone just... mashed a bunch of buildings together."
Brennan leans in a little. "Yeah, I’ve been trying to figure it out since I bought it. The guy at the shop didn’t know anything. Said it was ‘interesting.’"
He makes a face like that’s shopkeeper language for please buy my weird junk.
Jacob snorts, drops his phone onto the couch cushion beside him, and leans back. "Well, if it’s cursed, guess we’ll find out."
Brennan rolls his eyes.
Three quick knocks sound at the front door.
"Speak of the devil," Jacob says as he pushes himself off the couch, stretching his back as he crosses the living room toward the door.
Through the front door's glass panel, Chris and Danny are already visible.
Jacob unlocks the door and swings it open, a waft of A/C-cooled air spilling out into the warm afternoon air. He leans one shoulder casually against the frame.
On the porch, Chris stands a step ahead, board tucked under one arm. Cracked black graphic tee skims ripped light-wash skinny jeans. Wavy dirty blond hair sun-lightened at the ends, green eyes that test the room before he does. Heat slicks his hairline; he holds himself easy, ready to dive into whatever’s happening.
Behind him, Danny steadies the bike with one hand, the other on the frame. White tee under an open grey hoodie, sleeves shoved to the elbows, dark jeans; a longer dirty-blond fringe slipping into light-green eyes. Weight on one hip, relaxed but alert, his gaze already noses past Jacob into the house.
"Hey," Jacob says, glancing between the two of them with a faint smirk. "You guys survive the ride over without melting?"
Chris smirks, shifting the skateboard under his arm. "Barely. You’ve got, like, five seconds of my good mood before I start complaining."
Danny just gives a small shrug, adjusting his grip on the bike’s handlebars. "It’s not that bad. The A/C feels nice, though."
Jacob steps back, motioning them in. "Come on. Chris, just dump your board wherever like you always do. Danny, you can lean your bike against the wall by the door. No one’s gonna trip over it."
The rush of cool air washes over them as they step inside, the living room stretching out in front of them with the brass box sitting quietly on the coffee table.
Chris steps inside like always, shoes off mid-stride. Jacob barely looks, just standard Chris. His skateboard ends up leaned against the wall near the couch. Half in the way, but not enough to be a problem. Without missing a beat or wasting a step, he heads straight for the kitchen.
"I’m stealing a Diet Coke," he calls over his shoulder, like it’s just a formality.
Danny pauses only long enough to lean his bike carefully against the wall by the door, exactly where Jacob pointed, before his attention hooks onto the coffee table. The brass box seems even stranger up close... small, tarnished, the warm brass catching bits of light from the sliding glass door. The shallow engravings draw his eyes along their mismatched lines, each line and corner refusing to fit into a normal pattern.
By the time Chris’s footsteps fade into the kitchen, Danny’s already dropped into a crouch at the table’s edge, leaning closer to get a better look.
Brennan watches Danny sit down, one corner of his mouth curling into an amused smirk.
"Didn’t take you long," he says, leaning back into the couch cushions. "That box has been here all afternoon and you’ve known it for, what, ten seconds?"
Danny doesn’t even look up, tracing one of the shallow engravings with the tip of his finger without actually touching the metal, feeling its warmth radiate off the surface. "What is this thing? Where’d you get it? Is it... is it like, a puzzle box or something? Why’s it warm?"
Brennan chuckles under his breath. "Found it at this weird little shop in a strip mall near Downtown Brea. Guy sold it to me for twenty bucks. Said it was ‘interesting.’" He makes air quotes. "Didn’t give me anything else. Not even a fake ghost story."
Danny tilts his head, studying a section where two "rooms" on the engraving overlap in a way that makes no sense. "It looks like... floor plans? But not quite... right. Like they don’t match at all."
Jacob leans forward from his couch seat, resting his elbows on his knees. "Told him the same thing earlier. I even Googled it. Nothing close came up. Closest was antique jewelry boxes, but those are all, like, floral designs or plain metal or whatever. Not... this."
Danny glances up at him, still kneeling by the table. "You tried putting anything in it yet? Or opening it?"
"Yeah," Brennan says, shaking his head. "It opens, but it’s empty. Just plain on the inside. No hidden compartments, no secret keyholes."
"Feels like there should be more to it," Danny mutters, eyes narrowing slightly as he leans closer. "Like it’s missing something."
Brennan shrugs. "Or maybe it’s just a weird box."
From the kitchen, the snap-hiss of a soda can opening echoes faintly, followed by the sound of the fridge door closing. Chris strolls back in a moment later, Diet Coke in hand, condensation already dripping down the sides. He doesn’t even glance at the box at first. Just drops into the open spot on the sofa next to Jacob, one leg tucked under him as he takes a swig.
"What’d I miss?" Chris asks, glancing between Danny and Brennan.
"Your brother’s interrogating Brennan about the box," Jacob says dryly. "Pretty sure we could've charged him money just to look at it."
Chris finally looks toward the table, then back to Danny. "You getting all Nancy Drew on us?"
Danny huffs out a laugh but doesn’t move from his crouch. "It’s just... weird. Look at it!"
Chris leans forward just enough to glance at the box, then shrugs and leans back again. "Looks like an old lunchbox without the handle."
Brennan snorts. "Wow. Riveting analysis."
Chris grins into his soda. "What? It does. It's got like one of those Yu-Gi-Oh patterns that was probably on some kid's lunchbox in elementary school. Bet it even smells like old crackers."
Danny rolls his eyes but keeps studying the engravings, clearly not ready to give up on it yet as he reaches forward. He wraps both hands around the brass box to lift it. His brow furrows immediately. "It’s still warm," he says, shifting it between his palms like he’s checking for hot spots. "Seriously, why is it warm? You leave this outside or something?"
Brennan shakes his head. "Nope. It’s been in here since I got here. A/C on full blast the whole time."
Danny glances toward Jacob. "You felt it too?"
"Yeah," Jacob says. "Thought maybe it was just holding the outside heat from when Brennan brought it in, but it’s been hours."
Danny flips the lid. Plain brass. He tips it to the light, shuts it, turns the box, feeling for seams.
Chris watches from the couch, sipping his soda with a lazy curiosity. "Careful. You break Brennan’s twenty-dollar mystery box and he’s gonna send you a bill."
Danny ignores him, running a thumb along one engraving while his other hand taps the lid twice, then once more without thinking. The motion is quick, idle like a drumbeat, while his thumbs rest in opposing corners where the lines are thickest.
There’s a faint, almost imperceptible click from somewhere inside the box. It’s not loud enough for anyone to comment on at first, but the warmth under Danny’s fingers deepens slightly, spreading evenly through the metal.
He pauses, blinking down at it. "...Did you hear that?" Danny turns the box in his hands again, brows drawn. "No, seriously! There was a sound. Like something moved in there."
Brennan leans forward a little, resting his forearms on his knees. "Probably just the lid settling, man. You were tapping on it like a drum."
Chris smirks from his seat next to Jacob. "Yeah, you’ve got the nervous leg thing, but for your hands. Bet you’ve annoyed half your teachers with that."
Danny shoots him a look but keeps scanning the box. "It wasn’t just a rattle. It was.. I dunno, different."
He tries shaking it lightly. Not enough to risk dropping it, just enough to listen for another sound. All he gets is the faint metallic shift of the hinges.