A Stranger Gave Me a Button — Every Time I Press It, Someone I Know Becomes Rich… and Someone Else D!es" Episode 1: The Button It started with a knock.

Not the usual kind. This one was slow. Deliberate. Three soft thuds at exactly one-second intervals. Like a metronome counting down to something I couldn’t name.

I opened the door expecting a delivery. What I saw instead was a man in a brown coat, soaked from the rain, his eyes hidden beneath the brim of a dark hat. He held out a small black box with a red button in the center — like an old-fashioned desk buzzer.

“You’ve been selected,” he said flatly, “for a rare opportunity.”

I laughed. “This some kind of prank?”

His voice was calm but cold. “Every time you press this button, someone you know will instantly become wealthy — richer than you can imagine. But,” he added, “someone else you know will d!e. You will not know who.”

I stared at the box. Sleek. Plastic. Slightly warm.

“What's the catch?”

“You just heard it,” he said.

“No, like—seriously. Who are you?”

But the man was already walking away.

I called out, “Hey!” and stepped outside. But he was gone. No sound of footsteps. No trace. Only the button remained, sitting in my palm like a ticking bomb with no timer.

I should’ve thrown it away.

I didn’t.

I brought it inside and placed it on my coffee table.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

Day 1
I stared at the button.

What if it was real?

I grabbed my phone and opened up my contact list. Scrolled through. My best friend Daniel — dead broke. My aunt Naomi — always asking for money. My old professor, Miss Ada — brilliant but forgotten. All of them could use a miracle.

But the cost…

I shook my head. “It’s a trick.”

Still, I kept staring.

Day 2
Curiosity gnawed at me. I googled stories about strange devices. Nothing. I even searched “death wish button,” “mysterious red button,” “wealth in exchange for d3ath.”

Nothing.

Was this a social experiment? A hidden camera prank? I examined the box closely. No wires. No ports. No sign of power.

But it was warm again.

That night, I cracked.

I told myself I’d press it just once.

Just once.

For Naomi.

She’d just been diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer. Her GoFundMe was struggling. And maybe, just maybe, the button was a coincidence generator — not a real cause.

I hovered my finger over it.

“Just once…”

Click.

Nothing happened.

No sound. No flash. Just a soft vibration, like something had shifted in the world.

Then — silence.

I felt sick. Guilty. Ashamed.

But nothing seemed to change.

I went to bed.

The Next Morning
I woke up to 32 missed calls from my cousin.

I answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”

“Naomi!” he shouted. “She—she just got picked for some millionaire’s last-will charity thing! Five million naira! Out of nowhere! They’re covering her surgery! She’s on TV right now!”

My heart pounded.

I checked the news. It was real. She was crying on live television, thanking a foundation none of us had ever heard of before.

And then… the second call came.

From Daniel’s brother.

“Bro,” he whispered, “Daniel was found d3ad this morning. Cardiac arrest. Out of nowhere.”

I dropped my phone.

Day 4
I didn’t eat.

I didn’t sleep.

I stared at the button.

What had I done?

Daniel was my best friend. The only one who helped me when I lost my job last year. And now he was gone — just like that. Like a payment.

But Naomi was alive.

Was that evil?

Was I evil?

Day 5
I put the box in a drawer and told myself never again.

But the drawer began to hum.

That night I had a dream. I was standing in a room full of gold. Everything glittered — necklaces, coins, bars. But every step I took left behind a corpse.

Daniel was there, reaching out. So was my grandfather. Even my childhood dog.

I woke up sweating.

Day 7
My rent was overdue. My bank account was empty. And my job had just cut my hours.

Then I got a text from Miss Ada.

“Still struggling?” she asked. “Want to talk over lunch?”

I thought about her. Brilliant. Underpaid. Her mother was sick. She used to tutor me for free. She deserved better.

I reached into the drawer.

Click.

This time, I felt the vibration go through my chest.

Fifteen minutes later, I got a call.

Miss Ada had just been granted a full scholarship to study in France — with a housing allowance. Her dream. No explanation. No strings.

I smiled for a second.

Until I got the second call.

My neighbor — Mr. Chuka. Heart failure. Gone.

I used to borrow pepper from him.

Day 10
I told myself I’d stop.

But I pressed it again.

And again.

And again.

Each time someone got wealthy: scholarships, winning the lottery, promotions, inheritance, even long-lost relatives showing up with checks.

And each time… someone else d!ed. Car accidents. Illness. Su!cide. Fires. One guy choked on peanuts. Another disappeared in his sleep.

Never strangers.

Always someone I knew.

Day 14
I lost count of how many times I pressed the button.

It was like a drug.

The high of helping someone, followed by the crushing guilt of losing another.

But then something changed.

The button started glowing.

And the man in the brown coat returned.

He was sitting on my couch when I came home.

“How many times?” he asked.

I froze. “Six. Maybe seven.”

He nodded. “The button’s alive now. It has chosen you.”

“Chosen me for what?”

He stood and handed me a mirror.

I looked.

I didn’t recognize the person staring back.

My eyes were sunken. My skin pale. My lips cracked.

“I look sick,” I said.

“No,” he replied. “You look… owned.”

Day 15
Now, the button pulses on its own — even when I’m not near it.

I keep hearing whispers behind walls. My dreams are full of graves with no names.

My contact list has started updating on its own, suggesting new people.

And yesterday…

I got a message from Daniel’s number.

“It was worth it. Press it again.”

But Daniel is d3ad.

I know he is.

Right?

TO BE CONTINUED IN EPISODE 2...

Follow for episode 2 Author Ovie.
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