AL Clark

His eyes opened to near-total darkness, and he saw a small spot of light directly overhead—a tiny star surrounded by a velvety darkness. A single bright dot in the void grew and expanded to fill his vision until he blinked, and it returned to a tiny pinhole of light. He could see just enough to determine he was lying in a box not much larger than his body. The soft glow from the pinhole over his head allowed just enough light to see cold, dark metal surrounding him. Somewhere far away, an alarm was sounding. His head swung back and forth frantically, trying to understand, and fear grabbed at his heart as a disturbing realization surfaced. Where am I?

Desperately, he raised his arms and pressed hard on the surface above him. He felt a slight shift to his right, so he concentrated his efforts on that side. His fear made him strong, and with surprising speed, the lid flew open on concealed hinges and bounced off something—only to slam closed again. For part of a second, he managed to glimpse a small grey room and an oval metal door just a few feet beyond the end of the box. With less effort, a second attempt to free himself was rewarded, with the lid swinging to the side and remaining open. The distant alarm outside the metal box changed to a loud screech as the man eased himself into a sitting position and tried to make sense of his surroundings. It was a small and valuable room, a cubby hole with barely enough room for the silver metal box. The lighting was minimal, leaving details fuzzy, but it appeared this room was designed specifically for the box.