(Hi, it’s Yami Neko Tenshi, and I’m logging my first chapter in)

The phone rang, over and over and over again. Abby sighed for the nth time telling herself mentally, over and over, that she should just hang up and go on with the rest of her life. Sheer curiosity kept her glued to the phone, even as her voices (yes, voices) of reason screamed at her that this was insane and would only lead to heaps more trouble than she was capable of handling right now.

But Abby was remarkably stubborn, even to her ‘inner voices’.

Okay freak who sent me a pane of glass, I’ll give you ten more seconds to answer this call. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…

Okay, a bit longer. Fine. Abby flexed the fingers of her free hand and managed not to scream in utter irritation as the phone droned on and on and on and on. Finally, she gave up, throwing down the phone in disgust.

“Make that freak who sends me a pane of glass and decides to prank me with a lame phone number!” she said between gritted teeth. Abby picked up the glass pane and turned it over in her hands. It was cold, the weight of it substantial…not fragile as a piece of glass should feel, at least to her mind. The number too, with its kidnapping-style use of random numbers from random newsprint and magazines…all creative and different.

All absolutely engrossing…so much so that she wanted very badly to know who in the world would send her this…this…thing.

Mentally calling herself an absolute fool, Abby picked up the phone number and dialed again. Okay, I’m giving you another chance. You better answer this time.

Five rings.

Ten.

Twenty-three.

And then…

Ah - sorry - it’s late - I see that Tobie had submitted earlier as well!  My misstatement - sorry Tobie. 

Hello all - I thought both Tina and Tobie had really great entries - I decided to work off of Tobie’s since this was Tobie’s first post… 

Abby sighed and thought irritably to herself. Perfect.For the past two weeks her best friend Nena had been trying to convince her to attend a New Year’s party that Nena’s boyfriend Alex was throwing – but Abby did the math – she knew she would be the only person without a date. Rather than spend the turn of midnight awkwardly alone and with no one to kiss, she told Nena that she wasn’t feeling well and that she thought it best to stay in. Abby knew that Nena could tell she was lying, but Nena didn’t let on. That’s why Abby loved Nena like a sister.

Abby’s thoughts turned to Nena and the party as she picked up the strange object in the box.  My best friend is probably holding hands with her adoring boyfriend right now, and I am holding a hunk of glass from some weirdo.  Abby lifted the flap of the card and read the phone number again.

Part of Abby wanted to simply throw out the package.  Honestly, what normal person sends someone a random object and a cryptic note that looks like it was fashioned by a serial killer?  Instead of worrying that some stalker had personally delivered a package to her front door, Abby started to get more and more irritable.

It had been a bad year - what with that horrible breakup from Philip in the summer; her younger sister Diana announcing her engagement (leaving Abby the lone unmarried Marquez daughter); and her best friend Nena finding her “true love” - it was simply bad timing for whoever this guy was to send her this odd and creepy package.

Abby picked up the phone and began to dial.

Hee, I didn’t think this would happen now. Anyway, Tobie and I posted at the same time, but to keep the options open, we’ll leave both posts here and whoever the next poster is can choose which story to continue. Please put a comment before your entry on whose part you’ll continue, BTW. Carry on.

EDIT: CRAP, Tina and I posted at the same time. Do I delete this then? Or just rewrite it to accomodate hers?

She reached forward, hands taking opposite sides of the while parcel, before taking one deep breath and tearing it open.

While her imagination had taken flight fearing the contents of the gift to be that of clockwork bombs, anthrax-powdered terrors and even a severed head of a seahorse, reality was far simpler but no less intriguing in its own right.

It was empty save for two things:

There was a small panel of glass, barely a millimeter thick, which was laid flat on the bottom and nicely matched the box’s girth. The glass pane gave the gift the strange weight of a filled package.

And there was a small card on the glass, barely larger than a calling card. It was plain and slightly off-white, with a folded crease to conceal its contents. On its face, glued upon the board paper, were carefully spliced letters from what seemed to be various magazine articles, giving it a kidnapper-esque appearance with its different colors and choice of fonts.

“To Abby,” Abby read the card and was absolutely certain now whoever had sent this intended for her to receive it. She reached inside and flipped the card open. Written inside, in the same manner of collected cut-outs, were a list of numbers.

A phone number.

“Interesting,” Abby smirked, “I have to admit, whoever sent this has some style,” a pause of realization, “…in a creepy kind of way.”