What's inside the box?

Hello. If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead. That’s bad, but it’s not good for you either. Because if you’re reading this and I’m dead, that means you won’t be alive for long either. I’m not being funny. I’m not scaring you. I’m warning you, and I’m telling you why your life is in danger.

You see, this box where you found this page started it all. The founder of the Scatola mafia family of Sicily was a possessive man. During his time, around 1640, everything he owned was written on paper to the last blade of grass. He was also a neat and orderly man, which explained why all the assassins paid to eradicate him were sent to the authorities nice and clean and whole. He wasn’t only orderly when it came to ‘clean ups’. He had male triplets named Antonello, Barnaba, and Celso. He didn’t really favor any one of them, so he decided to let his three heirs compete for the position of Boss.

 In the beginning of the competition, Antonello was given a box. The box was ornately carved, and several gems were scattered over its exterior. Antonello, being the proud firstborn he was, boasted that he did indeed deserve it. But he was told that in the span of a month, he and his brothers would be struggling for the possession of the box. Whoever had the box by the end of the month would be the next boss. Nobody was allowed to look inside the box. Only the successor would be allowed to look at it. Barnaba and Celso were told the same thing but they were not given a box. And so the competition began.

At once, Barnaba sent a famous thief called Bambi to steal the box from his brother. Bambi was superb and the best in his line of work, but that is another story, and right now we have to focus on you not dying. So, being the best, Bambi was able to steal the box from Antonello. He gave it to Barnaba and claimed his reward. But just as a lackey of Barnaba was securing the box in one of their vaults, a man that Celso employed suddenly appeared and slashed the lackey’s throat. The box was taken just as it was stolen. Barnaba was passionate, as Antonello was proud. He didn’t want the boss position for prestige, nor money. He wanted it to save the woman he loved. Calandra, in his mind, was an unwilling woman of the boss of a weaker rival family and Barnaba longed to rescue her from her predicament. Only it wasn’t really a problem, and once again I am straying from the point. I apologize. I am a real scatter-brain when talking about family history.

Moving on, the group of men Celso ordered to take the box had a peculiar member. None of them knew it at the time, but he was probably the third smartest man in Italy. He was there when the boss announced that whoever had the box by the end of the month would be the next boss. He thought and thought and realized that the boss didn’t specifically say that it had to be his son who would inherit the position (by the way, blood is important in Italian mafia. Mafioso doesn’t just become mob bosses. Maybe this guy didn’t really want to admit the fact, but there.) Unfortunately, he was as ambitious, cruel, and greedy as he was intellectual. He hatched a plan wherein he would emerge as the victor of this game and be the boss of the famiglia. So in the dead of the night, he killed all of his companions and took the much coveted box with him.

Now it really turned into a bloody game. With the box not in any of the triplet’s hands, they sent men after men, assassins after assassins, to search every nook and cranny of Italy for the traitorous subordinate. He was accosted several times, but he just killed every single one of them. After a few weeks the box became a well-known image for all the members of the mafia. Every jewel on it was cursed; every curve of the immaculate swirling carving was loathed by the family of the slaughtered men.

The month ended with none of the sons carrying the box. The Scatola boss just smiled and motioned for them to reach into a bag he held and pick one of its contents. The three sons did, and what they withdrew were slips of paper folded thrice. They opened their respective slips and saw that there was writing in it. Antonello and Barnaba both held papers with No written on it. Celso held one with Si on it. Celso was about to celebrate when the traitor of the family came barging in with blood on his person and the box that he protected with his life clutched in his left hand. He held a gun in his right hand and with this he pointed to the boss.

With a deep, rumbling voice he said, “Make me the boss and I’ll let you live.”

You might think that after this statement the traitor lived his happily ever after, but the boss just smiled and nodded to an unseen stranger. The next second the traitor was dead before he touched the ground. The boss laughed heartily and said that the competition would continue for another month, and this time, he, the boss, would supply the men. Antonello won, and this bloody and ghastly event served to be a tradition to determine the next boss should there be more than one child.

We are now nearing the end of this tale. Before that happens let me tell you a bit about myself. I am Jiovanni Manetta, an Italian by birth and an American by choice. My father, Silvestro Manetta was an antique dealer until his last breath. He died in his shop with a bullet through his head. The lawyer that read his will to me said many weird things, like dad being descended from kings and stuff. I knew he lied to make me feel better but I wasn’t interested in it at all. I was more interested in the box he handed me. It looked like it cost more than my life and my father told me via his will that I shouldn’t let others see it with me if I wanted to live long. And if I valued the lives of other people I shouldn’t sell it either.

After the lawyer left, I opened the box to see a letter falling. I recognized my father’s messy scrawl right away and read it. Suffice it is to say that I was genuinely horrified to find out that my dad was a descendant of a real mob boss and that the box I held was a priceless artifact that family members of said mob would kill to have. My father mentioned how his father, my grandfather, and his grandfather were killed by the famiglia we were descended from.  Apparently, the mafia’s memory is as good as ever. Are you getting the hint? If you’re too dense, I’m telling you right now that this box that you’re holding is that same box that Antonello, Barnaba, Celso, and countless other boss candidates killed for. This box has a sinister history, full of blood, murder, patricide, fratricide, and many crimes that could make your resident bully cry for mama. Or faint. Either way, its story is not for the faint-hearted.

Now, you have this box. Whether I’m related to you or not, I really hope you survive longer than I did. I suppose I should tell you that there is no escaping the fact that you will die, seeing as you touched and opened this. At least you get to know why you died. Some of my ancestors died without knowing, you see. You should be honored that you were able to get this consolation. So what was inside the box? I tried, I really did, to look for it since I received this, but mobs usually protect their secrets to the last man. But it doesn’t matter. You’ll die, so get ready.