"Inside?" Angela asked in a small voice, her head swaying gently back and forth, her eyes now glossy and bright.

"Yes, my dear. Inside are spirits of the young, to aid the spirits of the old to travel on to the next world. It has always been this way and shall always be so," he said, taking her wrist in his thin, bony hand and pulling her gently to him. Surprised by his touch, she started to pull away, but with her attention still on the box, Angela let herself be guided closer to the old man.

"We make use of young spirits to guide our dead," he whispered and Angela nodded, still staring at the box. "You are a young spirit, Angela, my child," he told her, lifting the cube ever closer to her face. "Would you not like to assist my mother's spirit in her search for eternal happiness?"

"Um...yes," she answered in a low whisper. "Yes, I...I want to help."

Smiling, Enderlander touched the side of the black cube with his thumb and a hole formed on the top of the box. Small at first, the hole grew slowly larger, until it seemed to be bigger than the box, itself. "Look into the dark, my dear," he told her, his voice soothing and slick.

Angela gazed into the black hole that now appeared to be nearly the size of her own head and she was suddenly frightened. She tried to pull back, but Enderlander held on tightly to her wrist. Eyes still locked on the growing darkness before her, Angela whimpered in terror, but found that she was unable to move. Down in the depths of that black void something was slowly swirling, drawing her gaze ever deeper into the darkness.

"Join the others, my dear," the old man whispered, his words calming her fears. "Do you hear them calling?" Angela did hear what she thought were voices calling her name, but very faintly, as if they were far, far away. "They are calling you, my child," he hissed in her ear. "They need you. I need you. We all need you."

Angela weakly nodded her head, her eye lids now so heavy she could barely keep them open. From a distance, she could hear the old man chanting again, his voice rising and falling in concert with the beating of her heart. No longer aware of anything save the rhythmic sound of the chant and the intense urge to help this kind, gentle man, she looked deeper and deeper into the yawning opening. A sense of vertigo swept over her as she leaned toward the now huge hole and she felt something like cold hands reaching out of the swirling darkness, taking hold of her wrists, drawing her gently down...deeper...ever deeper....