"How many could possibly fit in there?" Matthew muttered, glancing at the ghost. This box looked way too small. Matthew eyed it with suspicion, it resembled a cheap plastic jewelry case more than a container for spirit stones. "Are you sure this is the right one?"
Was the damn ghost messing with him again?
Matthew dropped the box on his desk with a loud clunk.
It didn't bounce, didn't creak, didn't even sound like it had weight to it.
He narrowed his eyes at it. The box sat there like it had something to prove, small, square, with tacky silver chains wrapped around it. The kind of chains you'd find in a hardware store discount bin. Worse, the box wasn't made of metal. Or wood.
It was plastic.
Matthew blinked.
He reached down and ran a hand across the surface. Smooth. Hollow. Light. Then he knocked his knuckles against it. The sound that echoed back made something in his brain twitch.
Hollow. Flimsy. Definitely not something capable of holding spirit stones.
