Death Box Machine: The Cheater

By: Andrew Christie

One vision, that is all it took to know how it all ends. That was the idea behind the product 32F, nicknamed the Death Box. There were 380 of us, we were the test subjects who willingly volunteered for the test. Truthfully, I was just in it for the money. $10,000 was what they offered for every year they wanted us. Sounded pretty good to me. Live normally, with an extra 10 grand a year, sure! I found out later that I would rather passed on that now that I know better.

We stood in a line all of us waiting to put our finger into the little hold on the side of the box and get our vision. I assumed most of us didn’t really think the box was that precise the way everyone was so impatient, like they had somewhere else to be.

There was only one more person and it was my turn. He was a bum looking guy with his raggedy clothes and had an odd fish smell with a side of B.O. I saw him walk up to the box with two men standing on either side with a white suits. The man on the right asked him what his name was and honestly I can’t remember his first or last name but what I do remember is this.

He walked up slowly, suddenly second guessing if he really wanted to go through with it. He topped, looked back at the line, then asked the men in the white suits “does it hurt?” They looked at one another as if unsure of what to say, then finally the man on the left shook his head saying, “It should be fine. It really just depends on your vision.”

Those were the words that finally told me that this could be bad. What if what I see puts me into some kind of depression and all I do is sit around until I breath my last.

Before I could think any more he was done. When he turned around he simply said, “Beautiful.” He then went to the next room where he would write down what he saw.

It was my turn to see my fate revealed. Even though I wanted to turn and walk out I really didn’t want to be the wuss and puss out. Plus I did want that money. It would really make my life easier.

I step forward.

“Name?” he said.

“Zackary Stall.”

I stepped closer to the box, reached my hand out and placed my finger halfway in the hole. I stopped and asked “How accurate is this thing?”

“Don’t know. That’s what you’re here for.”

I took a deep breath. “Well shit, I came this far.”

I pushed my finger in and that’s when everything went black.

I found myself standing in a pitch black room looking into a mirror. Looking at myself in wonder I crept closer. My reflection didn’t mimic me, in fact, it took a step back. I waved to see if it would wave back. No, nothing. Just the slight movement of air passing in and out of his lungs.

He started whispering something. I couldn’t hear what it was he was saying.

“What?” I asked.He didn’t reply, he just stood there. Confused, I took a step forward. To my surprise, so did he. But before our feet could touch the ground gravity seemed to flip and I started to fall towards myself. Suddenly my reflection put the gun that I just now realized was in his hand to his head. As we made contact, everything went black. The last thing I saw was my own eyes. I didn’t, to my surprise, see any death. I saw life.


I snapped back into reality, confused more that frightened by the fact that I would kill myself. What were my reasons? I mean, I looked the same in the vision, so for whatever reason I wanted to kill myself it couldn’t be that far off.

I turned around and walked to the door to continue the process.