The whole auditorium was silent. No one moved, not a single breath was taken. Guy was holding the Electro-Box up in the light, examining it. As he spun it in his fingers, everyone in the room watched with horror-struck faces.
“So,” He said after a long silence, “How many of you want to text in class now?”
No one raised their hands. A few brave souls in the back pulled out their phones and turned them off.
“How many of you are scared of this box?” Guy asked, looking from the box to his petrified audience. No one wanted to move to raise their hands, no one wanted to be the only hand up, no one wanted to be the test dummy, to see what Guy would say to that answer.
“Really?” He said shocked, “Usually I get atleast one hand up.” He paused to look out at the crowd. “Hmmm, I guess I should demonstrate my product and then ask again. Who want to volunteer?”
No one moved.
“Alright then,” Guy said, “I guess I’ll have to pick.”
He walked down the isle, looking at all the students in each row before pick a tall and skinny girl with blond hair that was pulled up into a pony-tail.
“You,” He said, pointing to her and motioning to her with his hand. “You’re a perfect volunteer.”
Hesitantly, she stood and walked up to the stage. Her fingers were moving in her jeans pocket and her face was warped with fear. She stood about five feet away from Guy when she reached the stage. Every second or so she would take a small step, inching her farther away from the man with the Electro-Box.
“Now,” Guy began, “I want you to whip out that cell phone you have in your pocket,” He placed the Electro-Box on the floor in front of her. “And send a text message to anyone you want.”
The girl looked at the box and then out to her friends. She pulled out her phone and opened it up. Her fingers moved quickly across the keys, sending a message that no one was ever going to get.
On the stage, the Electro-Box was twitching, morphing, growing. Everyone was watching it as it began to roll towards the girl, shifting and changing as it went. She took a few steps backwards out of fright. It jumped into the air, still moving. She screamed and I covered my ears. I put my head down. I couldn’t watch. And then her scream ended short.
I didn’t want to look up. But I did. Only to find that there was nothing on the stage but the Electro-Box and a bright pink cell phone.
“Does any one else have their phone on?” Guy asked.
Someone screamed. People were moving, getting out of their seats. Another scream. The doors were rattling. Someone was trying to get out. People falling, running over each other, trying desperatly to get to a locked door. And I couldn’t move.
Based on a very elaborate dream I had in which I was a student in this high school. The story goes on to tell how myself and a small group of friends survived the initial wave of attack only to be locked in something similar to a concentration camp where the people around us were slowly being killed off.