Price to Pay

The cave was quiet, except for the soft drip of water. Callum McGrath stood in the center, his flashlight casting long shadows on the rough walls. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from the thrill of discovery. He'd found it at last. The golden box. 

He knelt down, brushing away dust and dirt that had gathered on the ornate surface. The box gleamed under his light, its edges smooth, like it hadn't aged a day. The legend was real. Tracy Hartman, the greatest treasure hunter of her time, had vanished without a trace, leaving behind this mysterious box. Rumor had it the box could grant any wish—but not without a cost. 

Callum’s breath hitched. His mentor, Professor Higgins, had spent years chasing every lead, and now it was Callum standing here, at the final stop. Higgins had warned him, over and over: "It’s not worth it, Callum. Whatever ye do, don’t go lookin’ for it." 

But Callum never was much for heeding warnings. 

The box was smaller than he expected, not much bigger than a loaf of bread. Its golden shine warmed under his touch, and delicate carvings of vines and leaves twisted over its surface, all leading to a single latch. As he reached for it, a strange warmth crawled from his fingers up his arm. A voice—soft, almost singin'—whispered in his mind. 

"Make yer wish, but remember—every wish demands a sacrifice." 

Callum froze, his hand hovering above the latch. A sacrifice. The legend had hinted at it, but no one knew exactly what that meant. Some reckoned it required somethin' material, while others said it would take somethin' far more valuable. 

The cave suddenly felt darker, colder. He could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He took a step back, his heart hammering in his chest. 

The box, though small, radiated power. It pulled at him, tempting him. He had come so far, endured months of research, dangerous hikes, and dead ends. And now, the answer to everything—his fame, his fortune, his future—was right here. 

But at what price? 

Callum thought of Tracy. She was fearless, always chasing the world’s greatest mysteries. And yet, she disappeared without a trace. Had she used the box? Had she made a wish and paid the price? 

A chill ran down his spine. His fingers itched to open it, to feel its power. But the whispers grew louder. 

"A sacrifice is always required." 

He paced the cave. What would it take? His wealth? His youth? His memories? Was it worth the risk? 

He thought of his mother, back in Dublin, struggling to make ends meet. How often had he promised her he’d make it big, find the treasure that would change their lives? His mother, who’d worked two jobs after his father died, never complaining, always smiling. 

Could the box grant him that wish? A new life for both of them? Surely, that was worth a small price—somethin’ he could live without. 

But what if it wasn’t small? 

Callum knelt again, studying the box as if the carvings might reveal a clue. His flashlight flickered, casting eerie shadows. He realized how deep underground he was—alone, with just the box and his growing doubts. 

He placed both hands on the box. The warmth grew stronger, and his pulse quickened. The urge to open it was overwhelming. His fingers trembled as they reached for the latch. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out reason. 

Then, a voice spoke again. But this time, it was different. It was Tracy’s voice. 

"It’s not worth it." 

Callum gasped, stumbling back. His mentor’s words echoed in his mind: "Don’t seek it. Whatever ye do, don’t seek it." 

He remembered the stories of Tracy’s disappearance, the warnings from those who knew her. She was never afraid of danger, but this—this was somethin’ else. 

He sat down on the cold stone floor, his flashlight flickering again. He thought of all the times he’d been told to be careful, to choose wisely. And here he was, about to throw caution away. 

Callum's hands shook as he reached for the box one last time. The pull of power was almost too much. 

But then, he thought of his mother. What good was wealth if he lost something more important? What if the box took something he couldn’t bear to lose? 

He stood up and, without looking back at the golden box, walked toward the cave entrance. The whispers faded, the warmth left him, and the weight lifted from his shoulders. Callum knew that Tracy had made the wrong choice—and paid the ultimate price. 

But he wouldn’t. 

Stepping into the crisp mountain air, Callum breathed deeply. The box’s power still tugged at his mind, but he knew he’d made the right choice. 

Some treasures aren’t meant to be claimed. Some wishes aren’t worth the cost. 

As Callum made his way down the mountain, the memory of the box clung to him. He couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d come to making a wish. What if Tracy’s voice hadn’t stopped him? What if he had ignored his mentor’s warnings? 

The setting sun painted the mountains in gold and amber. But as night fell, unease crept in. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting something to follow him from the cave. 

When Callum finally reached the small village, twilight had settled. He checked into the same inn as before. The innkeeper, an older man with a heavy accent, eyed him curiously as he signed in. 

“Find what ye were lookin’ for up there?” the man asked casually. 

Callum hesitated. “Not exactly,” he said, sliding the pen back. “It wasn’t what I expected.” 

The innkeeper nodded slowly. “Most who look for Tracy’s treasure say the same—or worse. Few come back.” 

Callum stared at him. “You know about the box?” 

“Aye,” the innkeeper replied. “Tracy stayed here before she vanished. Last anyone saw, she went up that mountain.” 

Callum swallowed hard. “Do you think… she used it?” 

The innkeeper motioned to a table by the fire. “Sit down. Ye need more than a bed tonight.” 

They sat in silence for a while, the fire crackling. Finally, the innkeeper spoke. 

“Tracy was brilliant, but even she couldn’t resist the box. She went up with a team, but came back alone. Changed. And then, a few days later, she was gone.” 

A chill ran down Callum’s spine. “What happened to her?” 

The innkeeper met his eyes. “She made a wish. And the box took something she couldn’t bear to lose.” 

Callum’s stomach twisted. Was that the price? Losing someone precious? He had been so close to opening the box, but now he was sure he’d made the right choice. 

The innkeeper stood up and placed a hand on Callum’s shoulder. “Ye did the right thing leaving it alone. Whatever power it offers, it’s not worth the sacrifice.” 

Callum nodded, though the temptation still tugged at him. The box had felt so real, so powerful. 

“Thanks,” Callum said as he headed upstairs. 

That night, sleep came in fits. Each time he closed his eyes, he dreamt of the golden box, pulsing with power. The price. The sacrifice. 

In one dream, he saw Tracy standing in the cave, holding the box. Her face was hollow, her voice a whisper. “I made the wish,” she said. “But it took more than I could give.” 

Callum woke in a sweat, heart pounding. The room was dark, moonlight casting shadows. 

Then, he heard a faint whisper outside his door. 

“Make your wish.” 

Callum’s blood ran cold. He jumped out of bed, threw open the door, and stared into the dark hallway. No one was there, but the whisper grew louder. 

“Make your wish.” 

It wasn’t coming from outside—it was in his head. 

The box hadn’t let him go. 

He realized then that he couldn’t just walk away. The temptation would follow him, haunt him, until he made his choice. 

Frozen in place, he stared down the empty hall, knowing the box was still out there, waiting. The whispers were louder now, and Callum understood that leaving it behind wasn’t the end. It was just the beginning. 

The next morning, Callum packed his things in silence, feeling the weight of his decision. He hadn’t told the innkeeper about the whispers, but the old man had seen it in his eyes and gave him a sad, knowing smile. 

Outside, the mountain loomed in the distance, shrouded in mist. The golden box was still there, waiting for him to return. 

And this time, Callum wasn’t sure he could resist. 

The pull was stronger now, the whispers constant. “Make your wish,” they echoed in his thoughts, relentless. 

Callum stopped just outside the village, his breath visible in the cold air. He turned and looked back at the mountain. He had come too far to turn back. The box had chosen him—or maybe, he had chosen it. 

Taking a deep breath, he turned and headed back toward the mountain, heart racing with anticipation. 

The climb felt shorter this time, as if the mountain was eager for his return. When he reached the cave, the whispers faded, replaced by a hum of energy. 

Inside, the golden box sat where he left it, glowing in the dim light. 

As Callum approached, a figure stepped from the shadows. It was a woman, tall with dark hair, wearing a weathered leather jacket. Her sharp features caught the box’s golden glow. 

“You’re not the only one who’s heard the call,” she said, her voice calm but edged with tension. “I’ve been following it for months.” 

Callum’s grip on his knife loosened, but he stayed cautious. “Who are you?” 

“Emily Blake,” she replied, her eyes steady. “You must be Callum McGrath, Professor Higgins' student, right?” 

He blinked in surprise. “How do you know about me?” 

A small smirk appeared. “Word gets around in this line of work. Higgins made a name for himself, and so did you by association.” 

Callum lowered his hand. “What are you doing here?” 

Emily’s gaze shifted to the box. “Same as you. Trying to figure out if the legends are true—and if it’s worth the cost.” 

Callum’s pulse quickened. He had thought he’d be alone in this, but now, standing with Emily, he realized he wasn’t the only one struggling with the decision. 

“What do you know about it?” Callum asked. 

Emily’s face darkened. “More than I’d like. My father was a treasure hunter. He found something like this once. He made a wish.” 

Callum’s heart skipped. “What happened?” 

“He wished for success. And he got it. But the price came later—my mother got sick, and he lost everything. Even himself.” 

Callum stared at her, the weight of her story sinking in. “And you’re still here?” 

Emily nodded, jaw clenched. “I have to know if this box is the reason I lost everything. And if it’s worth trying to use it.” 

Silence fell, the only sound the hum of the box. Callum felt a strange connection to her—both haunted by what the box could give, and what it might take. 

“Do you really think you can control it?” Callum asked, his voice barely a whisper. “The price might be too high.” 

Emily’s eyes flickered with a mix of determination and doubt. “Maybe,” she said softly. “But I need to know. I need to see if I can make a wish without losing everything.” 

Callum’s hand hovered over the latch of the box, the warmth seeping into his skin, the whispers growing louder. He could feel Emily being drawn in too, the same temptation gripping them both. 

“What would you wish for?” he asked suddenly. 

Emily’s gaze locked with his. “I’d wish to bring my father back. To undo what the last wish took from me.” 

Callum’s breath hitched. Her wish was dangerous, the kind that could unravel everything if the box twisted it. But he understood her desperation. He had his own desires, but her story made him realize how fragile they were in the face of such power. 

“And you?” Emily asked softly. “What would you wish for?” 

Callum thought of his mother and the promises he had made. But now, faced with the weight of Emily’s story, he wasn’t sure anymore. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I thought I did. But now…” 

Before he could finish, Emily placed her hand on the box. A surge of energy crackled between them as both their hands rested on the surface. 

“We do it together,” Emily said, her voice firm. “We both make a wish. We both face the consequences.” 

Callum hesitated. The power of the box, the intensity of the moment, it all pressed down on him. But the look in Emily’s eyes—her resolve, her shared fear and hope—pushed him forward. 

Together, they released the latch. 

The box opened with a soft click, golden light spilling out, enveloping them. The whispers swelled, circling them like a storm. 

“Make your wish.” 

The voice was clear now. It was the box speaking, offering them the power they sought. 

Callum looked at Emily. She nodded. “We do it together,” she repeated. 

With a deep breath, Callum reached into the box. 

And together, they made their wishes. 

The light blazed, the power overwhelming. Callum knew there was no going back. 

The price had already been paid.