Harpocrates' Box

Harpocrates’ Box is an unassuming photo booth.

Every name on this list is someone that entered. Everyone who enters comes out a different person.

I’ll describe it so you aren’t as startled. Where one would typically find a screen, there is a mirror. What lies on the other side depends on the person. It’s that simple, really. It takes something simple to break open the mind and get the glistening potential inside.

You recognize some names? You want to know? Weighing your decision, eh?

Alright, let’s see…

ARTHUR WINTERS

Father Arthur was almost a saint.

You may know him from the news, yes? Well, he was a devout priest. Back when this Box was thought of as a parlor trick, he was at the carnival for a charity event. Clothing the homeless with his church group, something of that nature.

“Harpocrates’ Box,” I beckoned. “See your true potential! Let your heart reveal itself!”

I asked him about his aspirations, where he wanted his faith to take him. He wanted to help people, to stay in his position. He entered.

After doing this job for so long, you can tell the reflection from someone’s manner. They tell you without uttering a word.

Upon seeing his reflection, he knelt and prayed before the mirror. He pleaded, asking for his sins to wash away. A man of God taking his place in the confession booth, me as the bystander in the pews. He was a prisoner, begging the harbingers of judgment to forgive him for his crimes.

He never said the sins. Just that they existed, and he knew they were unforgivable.

Once his groveling ceased, he looked up at the mirror. The glint in his eye told me everything. His reflection in the mirror, it was no longer his prison guard, but an aspiration.

The news stories didn’t exaggerate when they discussed the mirrors. I have a feeling the Box was the root of it, unfortunately. In interviews nowadays, behind bars and ten life sentences, he says he sees God in the mirror every day, and he would’ve set Him free if the police didn’t intervene.

I still don’t know how he convinced so many others that they too could see God in their reflection. Their bodies are still in the church morgue, but he… He only suffered that gaping scar in his chest, and convictions of first-degree murder.

THOMAS BAY

Thomas Bay was harmless.

He flinched at every loud noise in the bustling carnival. He was a nervous little thing, a thin shock of a man, which only made his temper all the more frightening.

“Harpocrates’ Box,” I beckoned. “See your true potential! Let your heart reveal itself!”

I asked him how his childhood was. He huffed and wondered why I’d ask such a thing, so I pulled the curtain back and said he could find out for himself.

When he entered, he laughed. He waved his hand in front of the mirror, but kept his gaze on the rim, on the floor, anywhere else. Whatever it was, he avoided eye contact.

“I was an idiot,” he muttered. He kept looking away, muttering to himself about if anyone was listening. Saying he was stupid, that he shouldn’t have done this or that, lest he get hurt. He just kept staring at the floor, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Finally, he shouted at the mirror, “Why? Why couldn’t I have been like him?” He pounded his fist on the wall.

I almost ran around to tell him time was up, but it wasn’t. It was 15 minutes before we started charging. He’d only been in there for 3 and a half.

He shouted and hit whatever was in the mirror, and when I finally told him time was up, he came out with a nod. I didn’t see him for the rest of the night.

A week passed and I saw him again. Before I could entice him to enter again, he gave me 15 dollars for another 15 minutes.

I urged him to keep the money, but he insisted. He entered, looked directly at the mirror, and began shouting again, smashing the mirror into splinters. I ripped open the curtain and urged him to leave, but he shoved me to the ground. I told him that behavior was prohibited if repeated, and he shoved me down.

I was too scared to do it again. Shell-shocked and bruised, for the first time in years, I ran away from Harpocrates’ Box.

It was years later when I saw his face and name in the papers. “Thomas Bay Charged for the Murder of Five Women.”

Now, the last name on the list? Well, perhaps I shouldn’t mention that one—

LEONARD PACHINSKI

…alright. I couldn’t tell you what the others saw, but before I was in this position, I was lost, drifting aimlessly in the world. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, and when I walked in that booth, when I saw myself, when the Box chose me for herself… It was simple.

Any more questions? See your true potential! Let your heart reveal itself!