Foreword - I was inspired to write this by watching Jumanji starring the late and brilliant Robin Williams, may he rest in peace, and by watching clips of the new Jumanji movie, and the Worst Witch.

Some of the ideas - being sucked into the game and being trapped come from across the mythos of Jumanji. I don't own either franchise, but please tell me what you think and I hope you enjoy it.

The Curse of Jumanji.

"I don't see why we just don't vanish it," one of the boys said, making the other, far older boy, sigh with irritation. The eldest boy usually found the night's beautiful, as befitted someone with magical heritage. But tonight the blackness above, with the stars shining in the skies above, did little to comfort him while he and his friend flew alongside each other with a box in between them.

"Because it is magical, and I tried to deal with it already, and nothing worked. If those spells I used didn't work then I doubt the vanishing spell would make any difference on it," the elder boy said. "We were both in there for 26 years, Peter, and in all that time we could never get out. We have got to get rid of it. Now."

Peter flinched at the reminder, and he clasped the broomstick with his one hand, but the older boy could clearly see his friend's hand was shaking as it held onto the box.

The elder boy spoke a bit more carefully. "Don't worry, Peter," he said as kindly as he could. "Soon it will all be over."

"I hope you're right."

The older boy sighed under his breath at his friend's pessimism, but he could understand it.

The two of them were wizards, young ones who were presently studying at school. Both of them were formidable magicians, experienced with spells and still learning despite their young age, and they had a long way to go before they were qualified and seen as adults, and both of them had fine futures ahead of them. But despite their experience and practice with magic, they were still eleven-year-olds who didn't have experience in the real world just yet.

But they had both been through a strange and terrifying experience, one that had not only nearly cost them their lives, but they had seen things so terrifying they were taking these measures.

The elder boy tried sitting upright on his broomstick to give the impression to his friend that all would be well, but truthfully he was just as frightened and shaken as Peter was, only he hid it better thanks to the pride drummed into his very being by his parents. But not even his upbringing which had been meant to prepare him for the life of a high-ranking wizard could have helped him with what had happened. After he and Peter had been freed and they had returned to the real world, the one they knew and were familiar with, he had tried to deal with the….thing in the box, the cursed thing.

He had tried burning it, risking setting off the fire alarm spells placed on the school to protect the students in case of a mishap in one of the potions labs. He had tried to vanish it, and a host of other things, but nothing had worked.

Peter had been there the whole time, and the pair of them had tried their own spells on it, but like him, nothing had worked. The only reason Peter was suggesting they vanish it was because he still considered it to be their best option since there weren't any checks on what was placed into Vanishment, the magical realm where all vanished objects were placed. He liked the idea as well - without any checks, and because the realm allowed objects vanished to be returned intact, the chances of anyone else finding it was remote. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked. The thing was still in the real world, and as long as it remained they were both in danger.

They had considered taking it to the teachers who would be able to call for help, and it would be taken into custody so then the two wizards would never have to see it again. While that was perhaps the simplest option, they had been lured by the drumbeat and both had ended up in a cursed world, they didn't want anybody else to fall into the same trap. What if their teachers heard the drumming? What if one of the wizards sent to examine the game took it away for study, and some of their assistants fell victim to the sound of the drumming?

They would be trapped.

He and Peter had found life almost impossible in that strange and terrifying world, and their magic had failed to work the way it should, and they were limited by their use of the Craft, as though the laws of magic were in retreat. Under those circumstances, no other witch or wizard would be able to survive in that place.

That was why he and Peter were taking these steps to ensure no-one else touched the thing in the box. As they flew above the forest, the two boys stopped speaking as they concentrated on their flight and both valiantly tried to ignore the weight of the box, but with the way the pair of them were flying above the treetops, trying hard to concentrate on their flying with only one hand grasped around their broomsticks, they both used their magic to keep the box steady and high as they flew so they didn't need to use too much effort to keep it upright.

The two wizards were silent before Peter broke the silence. "Are you sure this is the best way to deal with this, old chap?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean, even with your family's contacts-?"

"I've been thinking about that. But if we chuck it outside the estuary, weigh it down with blocks of rock, then the sea should coat it up with coral. I've read about it in books," the older boy explained patiently; he'd already been over this a dozen times. "I know what you're saying, Peter, but while I agree we can put it into the Morgana vaults, whose to say someone won't try playing with it?"

In the dim moonlight, the older boy could see the look of worry on Peter's face.

The Morgana vaults were a research facility in the Magical world. They were a combination of vault not too dissimilar to those found in bank vaults or storage facilities like warehouses where witches and wizards poured over items collected over the centuries by magical researchers. There were always strange magical artefacts discovered in tombs or in lost magical villages and cities over the years.

The magical world, like the non-magical world, had gone through many turbulent times, so it wasn't too surprising to find magical people more developed around the world. They had built amazing cities, like Atlantis and a few in Africa, Asia, North America where the witches and wizards there lived as peaceful Indians, and over the centuries they had made the wrong choices or they had come into conflict with other cities with different ideas, and they had fallen into disrepair. The people's living in those cities had either left and inter-married with others, died out and were forgotten, or they travelled elsewhere, never to be heard from again.

Their cities, their libraries, everything about their ways of life were buried, but witches and wizards sent out teams of archaeologists, highly trained experts and specialists who went out across the world, unseen and undetected by their non-magical counterparts, though the chances of non-magical people finding one of the cities was rather low, especially those cities where witches and wizards lived underwater to find a new way of life without being bothered, since the magic protected them even if was warped by the passage of time.

The findings of the archaeologists were placed into the Morgana vaults. Legend had it that some of the most dangerous items were locked there by a group above and beyond the Magic Council itself.

While it was tempting to contact the council to have the Morgana vaults take the thing into custody and lock it away, they weren't sure what would happen if the thing's inherent magic interfered with the magic of whatever was in the vaults. The Council went to a great deal of effort to keep the contents of the vaults a strictly kept secret in case someone had the 'bright' idea of breaking into them and taking something inside without knowing what it would do, and the elder wizard of the duo was sure he had heard something had happened, but he wasn't sure if it was true or just a fairy tale rumour designed to make people think twice. All he did know was that this thing was too dangerous to be left out into the open.

Just like he wasn't sure if he wanted to use his family's influence to get it locked in the vaults anyway. While it would be easy, he didn't want to run the risk of other students being snatched by that thing, never mind anyone else.

No, getting rid of the thing was the best option.

Peter still didn't look happy. "How far have we got to go now?" he asked.

"Not far to go now. Be thankful we're flying, or it would be a long walk."

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The two young wizards followed the river all the way down to the estuary and out a bit further from the sea when the older of the two boys nodded after he looked around. "Yes, this should be good enough," he announced. "I'll hold the box up, you apply the spells to weigh it down in the water."

Peter nodded and he waited for his friend to lift a finger and mentally lift the box up and keep it steady, and he was just about to cast the spells when he stopped when he heard it, and the other boy stopped as well.

A low, rhythmic drumming. It started low at first, but it could be heard even with the box blocking the thing off. Then it grew louder in volume and tone, a sinister drumming that pounded through both young wizards' bodies. Both boys became paralysed with fear on their broomsticks.

"I-I can't," Peter whimpered, somehow managing to make himself heard over the beating.

The younger boy's whimpers broke through his friend's own fear. "Peter, listen to me. Listen to me! We have to do this. It has to be done, now. Right now. This is why I wanted to stop anyone else from finding it. Pull yourself together. After three, we both cast the spells to weigh the box done, alright?"

Peter nodded, reassured by his older friend's confidence. Using that as a crutch, he pulled himself together and cast the necessary spells. The box was covered with chains made from heavy metal, interlinked by bricks and lead weights.

Once his friend's spell was applied, the older boy looked it over to see if he could make it any heavier. Peter's spell was actually quite strong, and there were plenty of lead weights and bricks already. While he would have liked to add a few extra precautions, the two of them were actually quite close to the estuary, and the chances of a non-magical fisherman being able to lift it out were remote.

He was about to drop the box and cancel the spell holding it up when the sound of drumming started up again, much louder this time. Angrier. The elder boy out of the duo swallowed as he realised that the thing inside the box under all those weights knew what was going on.

The drumming seemed to say to them "You think this will stop me? I shall be free."

The elder boy was starting to think that he should have woken up one of the teachers, and gotten the council involved so then it could be moved to one of the deeper level vaults, but they had both come this far. What was the point of taking it back now? He tried to cancel the spell over the box and drop it into the sea. Unfortunately, the strength of the thing's drumming made it hard for him to concentrate.

He suddenly felt Peter's hand on his arm. "Focus," the younger boy said forcefully. "Let it go. You were right, this thing is too dangerous to just lock up, all we can do is dump it somewhere and hope no-one touches it again. Cancel the spell, drop it into the sea."

The older boy closed his eyes and focused his mind.

"I am a Wizard," the older boy whispered to himself, remembering all of those stories he had read all his life, of the great deeds wizards like Merlin had performed which only furthered the greatness of the Magical people. He had been taught by his father and grandfather to take pride in his being a wizard, and he had no intention of disappointing them. If he could receive a great mark in his Entrance Examinations then he could do this. "I can do this. I can do this," he hissed to himself, ashamed of his weakness.

Peter watched his friend with pity, seeing for himself that the curse of the thing in the box was getting to even his friend, who was perhaps one of the most confident and prideful students within their academy.

With a visible effort, the elder of the two wizards flicked his hands silently and the box fell into the sea. Peter flew closer to his friend, who looked relieved even though they could still hear the beating of the drums.

"It's alright, my friend," Peter whispered. "It's alright. We've gotten rid of it."

"I thought I could handle it," the older boy admitted, ashamed of his weakness.

"It's alright," Peter repeated. "I was frozen as well, the drumming was too strong. Come on, let's fly back."

The older boy nodded. "Yes," he agreed at once, delighted to have something new to focus his attention on. "At this point, I don't care if we're put into detention for being out of bounds."

"It was worth it," Peter said.

The two boys flew back to their school, but it was halfway there before Peter asked something that instantly had his friend worried. "What happens if someone finds it despite our efforts?"

The older boy turned slightly, his face a grim mask but in the dim lighting, Peter could only see the shadows of his face that gave him a more wraithlike appearance.

"Merlin and Morgana help them," he replied grimly, now already regretting his hasty decision to just dump the thing into the sea and hope no-one found it. He only hoped that by being weighted down by the sea and by those bricks, chains and heavyweights would be enough to stop anyone picking it up, but after what he'd learnt about coral from books after going on holiday to the Caribbean to soak up the local magical culture, he hoped the coral covered the box so if someone did swim down and took a look at the seabed, it would be so encrusted that it would be virtually impossible to get the box out and even if they heard the drumming sound like they'd done just now, the thing would be buried so far into the coral it would be impossible to get it out.

Grimly, the two boys flew on.

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Thoughts of the box and what it contained at the bottom of the sea would lurk with them for the next two years, but over time they gradually forgot about it though they would always carry the terrible memories of their experience for the rest of their lives. The two young wizards went through their lives, gaining their positions either inherited from their family or they entered a new position out of their own choice.

Meanwhile at the bottom of the sea, the box which was slowly but surely becoming a distant memory refused to go silent as the special but far ancient magic refused to be defeated; it had been locked in vaults before, it had been dropped into bogs, swamps, and had even been dumped onto a patch of quicksand, buried under tonnes of rock and much more, so even if the two boys had handed it over to the specialists of the Magic Council for study and investigation, it would have found its way out at some point.

Instead, the poor, simple boys had thought that dropping it into the sea, weighted down, would be effective. They were wrong.

No matter. It had once thought it couldn't escape the quicksand. And it had survived.

It would always survive. But it was just so boring that the people who crossed it thought that burying it would be the end of the matter.

Inside the box, deep within the thing the two young had feared coming out, there was a cunning intelligence behind it, and that intelligence wasn't in a hurry to escape. To do so would result in it losing too much of its energy, it had done that once and it had ended up entombed for a lot longer than it had hoped.

The creators behind the thing had imbued the magic with a simple command; to survive at all costs, using the experiences of whoever entered its little realm to survive. But the creators behind it had also made it able to evolve and to protect itself. The intelligence had been basic in its first few years, but over time it had grown. Now it was incredibly powerful and dangerous, but it needed people to use it.

In a way, the thing fed off the various experiences of those who were unlucky to encounter it. It was ancient, powerful, and it had fed off the experiences that the people who found it endured, and the intelligence had learnt that patience was the key while it concentrated on using its magic to find a way out of whatever prison it found itself in.

Sometimes the intelligence thought about its creators, even though those thoughts were fleeting, but they were there. It didn't even know if it had been created by a group of witches and wizards, or if it had been created by something more than humans. All it knew was it had suddenly existed to survive, and with the magic imbued into itself, it would live forever. Many people over the centuries had wasted precious time and energy trying to work out who they were, what their purpose was, what was going to happen next, where were they going with their existence. But the intelligence did not care about that. It only cared about survival. It had also learnt a great deal thanks to the minds of the people that crossed its path.

The intelligence didn't waste its time with such things. It didn't care why it had been created, it had stopped trying to debate it long ago because there wasn't anyone nearby who could communicate with it to give it some insights, so it had given up.

The intelligence had every confidence it could survive and escape. It had after all soaked up the experience of two young wizards who were nearing the very primes of their lives, and it had fed off it. It had grown again, just like it always did. With it being recently fed, it would be easy to fight its way out. But that was how it worked, wasn't it? After every new experience, it was strong enough to fight back and escape. Oh, certainly there had been times where its' requirements were not met by those who encountered it, so it would be silent, but that changed always.

The thing marshalled its strength under the sea. For ten years it studied the chains and the box that imprisoned it, and gradually it found the weaknesses in the metal and the bricks, and over the years if the two young wizards had managed to find the courage to swim down to the seabed to see if the box they'd dropped into the sea was still there, they would have found the chips in the box and in the chains holding it.

Soon it would be free. It had waited once for a century if it needed to it could stay down there for centuries.

But it would be free.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.