As you travel, you spot a glint of light in the distance. It easily catches your eye, as the canopy of the forest is heavy and only allows filtered light in. The sparkle reminds you of the way polished windows sometimes dazzle in the midday sun. Approaching this curiosity brings you to a picturesque, if odd, sight. A large glass box, at least seven feet long, rests atop a wrought iron stand. The filigree, swoops and swirls with thin connections between them, gives the impression that the stand is meant to hold something of great importance. As if to emphasize this, the trees overhead have created an opening, allowing a pillar of light to illuminate the scene. Inside of the glass box rests a figure.
The image of the figure is distorted by the thick glass, as the light bends and refracts. Circling the scene and viewing from different angles allows a composite image to be assembled. The figure is a woman with hands crossed over her chest. She lies still, motionless, deathlike. Yet no signs of decay are apparent.
The glass coffin is of sturdy construction, appearing to be at least an inch thick based on the way the light interacts with the corners. Somehow, the box seems to be made without any kind of mortar or joining material; the entire construction appears to be a single piece of glass. Closer inspection of the container reveals a barely perceptible faultline running along the top lip, showing where the lid of this container is positioned. It looks as if this could be removed, although it would be delicate work.
What do you do?
- Open the coffin. Perhaps this woman is under some spell and needs help.
- Bury the coffin. This woman deserves a proper burial, not a display for the whole world to see.
- Leave. The scene is too perfect. Perhaps the image of the woman is an illusion; the coffin, some sort of trap.
