Volume X Starter [The Night They Woke] I cannot think of a proper way to start explaining how it all started…but I guess I can start with my job. First off, my name is Jerry. I work at a job that is often described as a night guard, yet it is mostly a job for people that have to follow other people around and keep them safe. It is kind of hard to explain, but you can call it what you like. I called it a paying duty of my normal life, so it was all right to say the least. When I was starting, I was taking all the jobs they were offering and did not really care to pick the ones I truly liked. I doubt there are people that positively like following other people around and doing what they are doing. One year in this business though, I started carefully picking the jobs I was being offered from my superior. Either watch over a gated community building; watch over a nightclub, or the usual, night guard at a factory or somewhere else. It was not hard or boring…well, it did became somewhat tiring to not have anyone to talk with, but most of us that have chosen that profession do not mind. Heck, when I grew older in the company I prefer picking places where I could find a bit of solitude and peace from the overall chaotic lives of the other people. Which is why, I was brought here…the local cemetery right outside of town. It was quiet…peaceful, and rather…empty of life. Yeah, poor choice of words. I liked it here though. It was somewhat refreshing, in an odd way. Nevertheless, if it gave me some confinement in my own thoughts i guessed it was all right. Well, that was until everything changed for cemeteries and me. You see, I was not afraid of them, nor did I dislike them one bit. It was the events that occurred two days ago at my night shift. Usually when I had a night shift in the cemetery, there weren’t many people roaming to their loved ones grave to place some flowers of light a candle or two. No. In the night, it was only the cold wind, me, and my little radio emitting a smooth and calming melody to keep me away from my need to sleep. The occasional animal was not far off either. I had periodical times in which I had to leave the small like booth I used as a shelter and overnight residence, and take strolls through the cemetery, for precautionary measures. There were a few stray cats that I fed from times, and that night, they were meowing right outside of the booth. I shared some water and a bit of my dinner with them and stayed to see them eat it all up with appetite. Once that was over, I started taking the usual routine strolls to see if everything was in order. Of course, there was not a soul around to make it different from any other night. The radio was tucked deep in my pocket, and the headphones deep in my ears. The jazz was so rhythmic and soothing that the vibe of the cemetery was rather an up to it, making me feel relaxed. It was relaxing; I cannot say it was not. Pushing my hands in the pockets of the trousers, I enjoyed the autumn night air and its icy chill. I did not smoke, but I figured that if someone did, it would be the best time to have one. My eyes then focused into something rather unusual in the sky. The full moon was glowing so brightly that the whole area was illuminated and I did not even need a flashlight to make my way through the graves. What was the odd part? Well, the moon was shining in a red light. That…did not provide me the necessary peace because it reminded me of war for some reason. The deep-ish dark-red color of it. Even the radio glitched for a second before a voice of a news anchor started talking excitedly. “Good evening ladies and gents. Today we are blessed with the sight of the phenomenon of the event so called the “Blood Moon”. This is resulted by the results of a total lunar eclipse. For the listeners that do not follow me, I have a little card with the full description of the event right here. The lunar eclipse happens when the Moon travels through the Earth's umbra and blocks all direct sunlight from illuminating the Moon's surface. However, some sunlight still reaches the lunar surface indirectly, via the Earth's atmosphere, bathing the Moon in a reddish glow. That is about it folks. The event is quite pretty, so I suggest you snap a picture or two, because it happens merely two times a year. Grab those cameras, and enjoy the show!” The voice finally calmed down and I heard the jazz slithering its way back into the back of my head. Now that I knew what all this was…it was not as bothersome as I figured it would be. Even the cats I fed were glaring at it. -You like it too, huh? – I asked and kneed to caress the mother cat. The female knew me from the times I fed her and did not mind having her fur gently caressed. The rest of the kittens joined us, and I got to play with them for a bit. Their innocent little bodies battled to be played with more, but I still had to continue the stroll. It was passing two o’clock and I did not want to stay outside more than I needed to. I took some steps further in the yard of gravestones and heard something that was not the music. Well, I managed to hear it in the moment between song switch, as one ended and the other started. It was not a smooth transition, which was why I noticed the other sound. Removing one ear bud off I commanded all my senses into trying to force myself to remain as quiet as possible. That is when it happened again. It was a low guttural growl. For all the times I have been a night guard here, I have never heard anything like that before. What made it even worse was that it was coming from bellow. As if someone was growling from bellow the ground. Of course, that would not be possible. The only thing underground that could do it was dead… It could have possibly been a dog; yet, I do not know a dog that can make this type of growl. I tried taking a few steps towards the direction I was hearing it, which was the lower left side of the field. Two steps in though, another voice, this time high pitched with a raspiness of a fifty year old smoker screeched in the night. That, combined with the growl from before could easily get me out of there for good…but those were only voices. Not that they weren’t scary enough on their own, but when my superior asked me why I left so early and I replied “ because I heard voices” I would get fired immediately. Not that if I saw ghost and told him so I wouldn’t get fired, but seeing something rather than hearing it would make it a more passable excuse to ditch the job, especially in a cemetery, with a full glowing red moon to cover you from above. I did not move anymore, but the little kittens were meowing. Afraid of something they could not see, they were hiding with their mother, who was as frightened as they were and was looking at me for help. -Stay there, im coming – I whispered as if it would understand me. I made the stop gesture, which I figured was more understandable than speaking, and she stopped moving. The kittens did not stop meowing though, which made the voices even louder. The screeching and growling from bellow started to echo in my ears louder than the music from before. Not only that…but with the screech and growl, came even more voices out of the ordinary. Screams, piecing yells…loud gurgling squeals that resembled animals. The more I moved the more they resounded in the yard. The kittens started crying even louder, trying to outperform the bellow orchestra. The band from down under did not like that one bit. I stopped as I saw something. The ground shook for a moment, and there it was. A nearly decayed hand stenching and spreading the air with a filth that made me puke my dinner. Along with it came another hand…and for last, a head, covered in white larvae. The eyes only revealed the nearly showing skull behind the rotten skin that was ripping apart with each movement trying to escape the wooden confinement of the coffin. The shrieks from that thing were awful. I was three feet away from it, yet I could swear the anger in its torn vocals were reaching me louder than anything before. I was frozen. Watching the undead crawling out of its grave…yelling and…being there…moving…having life after death was more than enough for an ordinary night guard. It was enough for an ordinary man…not just a guard. The kittens were as scared as I was, but they were not quite as quiet as me. Their cries for help did not end…which was why the undead being turned its dead head towards them and quickly reached their spot. The mother cat tried defending them, using her claws as shield and sword. The zombie was not having that. It grabbed the cat by her throat and slammed her in the ground. It then brought it closer to itself, being all dizzy and whatnot and fiercely bit its muzzle, tearing most of it with one animalistic rip. The cat tried crying but it was not capable of it anymore. The undead was on top of it and it was devouring it, ripping parts of it up with its yellow yet sharp teeth, covered in the poor animal’s blood. I could not move a muscle seeing the gruesome picture I am describing. The painting got even worse…when the other graves started shaking from below. It was getting even more frightening seeing the remains of people exiting their eternal tombs and coming back to life. I finally managed to move one-step back. The zombie that was eating the kittens now, looked at me with its hollow eyes, and screamed with all it could. It then left the cats and started rushing towards me with an awful fast movement using its elbows and legs as a boost for its crawl. I had to run. I did run. The other zombies were coming after me too. I did not have time to get my belongings from the booth. Only my phone, which was in my jackets pocket. I miraculously reached the car, entered it, and started the engine as the zombie got to it. Its hands started bashing the door as if it was a raging bull trying to get inside. I saw from the passenger side how the rest of the undead forces were either walking or crawling towards the car. Shifting into reverse I quickly sped back, rotated the wheel and made a swift turn that made me able to hit the zombie chasing me. Once the front bumper collided with it, I stopped for a second to see if it had some impact or not. I swear it took minutes or more, while it was just a second for the undead to rise again. Not waiting anymore, I completely reversed the car, sped up with all it could muster for an old Chevy and did not look back. When I was miles away from that place…I needed something to bring my mind away from that horror. Switching on the radio…I was brought back towards it instead, hearing the same voice of the anchor from before. “I don’t know how to begin ladies and gentleman, but for now, I can only advice you this. Lock your doors and shut your windows tight. It has been reported…from several towns in the region, that…a massive outbreak of…undead has spread over the country. I warn you to not leave your homes until further notice. All outside activities for the rest of the week have been terminated indefinitely. For now, the only thing we could do is to remain calm and not panic for the government and forces have taken immediate action. The fact is clear, however. Tonight, in this “Blood Moon”, the dead have woken up!” As his voice turned into static, no music remained anymore. My heart was beating as fast as the car was speeding. I had to calm down as the man said, but the growls, squeals and squeaks of those things were horrible enough to keep me awake for the rest of my life. Hopefully I found a disk of recorded jazz in the glove box. When I started it with the CD, I was brought a bit of hope back from the music. That somewhat covered their screams, with the harmony of the instruments played all together. That soothed me, calmed the poor soul of mine that witnessed the dead rising. Filled the night with music and peace, filled the night, in which they woke. [Hide and Seek] It is strange how little kids do not understand things that quickly. I mean, it isn’t that strange, thinking that children aren’t as filled with information as for example, adults are, and most of the times…well, things don’t go as planned. I was sitting on my comfy chair and was watching a reality show, when I overheard some kids screaming outside of my apartment’s window. I live on the fourth floor, and my apartment was facing the outside street where mostly cars passed, so it was not that hard to figure out that the cause of this problem was thanks to the kids playing something too loudly for my liking. Maybe if I was ten years…or thirty years older I would make sure to go and tell them to pipe down and let me watch my show…but being considerably still young, I was not going to go and act that way. Instead, I just went on the balcony and observed their play. Five kids or more were scattered, one behind a car, one behind a trash bin, and others hiding in different places. They were playing hide and seek. My favorite game for when it got a bit dark outside. I observed their game until the seeker found them all and called them out touching the counting spot set before the game. That itself brought memories. Memories I did not want to recall back, because it was not something I was so proud about. It happened ten years ago, when I was only eleven. Five kids, including me, were gathered and one was deciding the seeker. I was not picked, but stood a bit to the side to see who was going to be it. Mary was not going to be it, Suzy too was not gonna be. Peter nearly lost to the rock-paper-scissors game, and Violet finally won against Jack, who ended up being the seeker. I did not mind any of them being the seeker, yet, Jack was a sore looser and every time he was picked to do the “dirty work”, he would complain to the end of the world, and do it half-assed. Even so, the game was set. The place for the counting time was set to be my building block, to the side where there was a split between the garage spaces and the front entrance. Jack had to count to one hundred using only five units. For example, five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty and so on until you reach one hundred. Of course, when he was done counting he would to the ritualistic words of calling out the ones from both of his sides and behind him, in a way to make sure there were not players wanting to cheat on the hiding part of the game. All was good, but…as I, said, well Jack did not really enjoy being the seeker so he was doing everything rather slow. Some of the kids could ran through the whole beforehand set field, back and forth, and he still would not be done. The playing area was rich of hiding places, so even if he was going to look for us, there were chances where we would try to escape behind another building block, tree, parked car or a fence. “Alright, anyone behind me or to both my sides is going to be the seeker three times in a row…ready or not…here I come! “ – Finally resounded the voice of the seeker, rather gloomy, if I add. Gloomy or not though, the game was on and I wanted to play. I was hiding behind an old car belonging to a lady on the opposite front block from the one I was living in. She would always get angry because we kids were causing a big fuss when we were playing something. She was out of town and this was the perfect opportunity to make this hiding place my own. From this spot, I could perfectly scout Jack’s position, and even had a glance at the position of Suzy, which was hiding, on the far left side of the play-site, behind a large oak tree. Jack however was not facing there; he was looking on the far right side, on which I did not have a good look, thanks to the building on the right. Even so I wasn’t gonna waste the chance, but as I got ready he suddenly turned to see Suzy, running for the wall on which everyone had to claim “not sought”. That was our version of this iconic game. “Caught!” – shouted Jack, quickly outrunning the little girl and touching the wall of the eight story building. Suzy got a bit sad that she was caught, but that was the game. Jack then turned to face the car behind which I was. Taking small steps, I was planning to pass the car from one side, and then rush to the wall as Jack is coming to the side on which I was now. That was what happened. I slowly got to the right side of the car, as the seeker approached the left, and when I felt that I had the advantage, I quickly spurred out of my spot and ran as if I was being held captive. Jack didn’t see me, but heard the resounding, “Not sought!” – As I touched the wall. Jack cussed and returned to the wall, and started observing the area while I sat on the concrete steps beside Suzy. All that were left to find were Peter, Mary and Violet. “I think Peter is hiding behind the metal fence on the other side of Miss Kutcha’s block.” – whispered Suzy, wiping her brown hair from her eyes, as I nodded because I saw him peeking. The same lady did not own the other side, it was just one building split in two blocks. Peter was hiding on the far right side of the site. What was beginning to bother me was the fact that I did not see either Violet or Mary anywhere. Of course, my own block was still a play site, and going behind it was allowed, yet during this time, when it was darker, I did not think that the girls would like that. Yet, it seemed it was like that for I was not seeing anyone. Peter finally made a run for it, but Jack surprisingly into his role “caught” him and he sat beside us. “I NEARLY MADE IT!” – He said quite energetic from his sprint, as he sat next to us, taking a big breather. Jack was going to win if he could catch another person, but the other person did not come. I swear he sought them for like ten minutes, something rather unusual for this game, because most of the time it ended sometimes in ten, and this game was now entering the twenties. “Wanna call King’s Road?!” – I asked ready to begin shouting. The dark haired boy turned to me and shook his head. The “King’s Road” was basically the end of the game when a seeker does not want to look anymore and make it so that the hiders can go and claim their point by the time until the others players count to ten. “No, I want to use the Second spot.” – Replied the boy and pointed at me – “You’re the Second one now John, come and help me!” The “Second” was a rule we made up but it was something to help make the game more intense. That would mean I had to become a seeker. The kids would later make it so that the ones that did not score a “not sought” would be only eligible for “Second” not anyone…but before that we were doing this like that. “Alright then Jack, you go behind Miss Kutcha’s block, ama go behind mine, if someone sees Mary or Violet, we yell, “FOUND!” alright? – I asked and the boy nodded. Splitting up the search was always going to be the best option. However, as I was walking past the side of the building…I was beginning to feel something off. It was too dark. Most of the times the surrounding buildings would illuminate the place, but now it was devoid of light. I got the spot where I thought I would catch them, but it seemed empty of life…except, for the faint speech I was hearing. “Yes…and a house filled with all your wishes. You want candy…? You get as much as you want! You want toys! BUT OF COURSE! Anything you two want…the house has it, and even more! You just need to come and visit and see for yourself…maybe even invite some of your friends…oh…IT’S SOOOO FUN!” – whispered a voice I could not recognize. As I got closer though…I could make the outlines of two girls…and a man. He was towering them quite a bit, yet they were not fazed at all. “Can I ask mommy first?” – asked Mary, the youngest of our group. The man shook his head furiously and continued talking. “Oh…no, do not do that, of course you should not ask her for that. You have MY permission to come, isn’t that the main thing? Don’t you want sweets or toys Mary?!” – asked the man, and handed her a circle shaped lollipop. I could see it because it was shining in a bright red color. She was attempting to take it, but I had to do something. First off, my mind thought about “don’t take candy from strangers” and then “don’t even talk to shady characters behind a building devoid of light”. “MARY! DON’T TAKE THAT!” – I yelled, but it was too late. The figure of a man finally looked up, so I could actually see the face, but…even now trying to figure out what I saw, I was not sure. His face was…a different kind of thing. It was enlarged and twisted in the literal way, because his eyes were kind of enlarged, and did not look right on the dis-proportioned head. His nose was somewhat missing, while his mouth, only revealed a sharp set of teeth that made a horrifyingly creepy smile at my direction. Before I could even say something, he grabbed the girl’s hair as they were looking at me a bit dazed, and vanished into nothing. Just like that, they were gone. Vaporized into thin air. That night…the whole neighborhood, was silent and sad…mostly shocked by the fact that their children were gone? I was even sadder by the fact I could only stand there and shout in disbelief. I watched them disappear, and I stood there frozen. But what could little John do anyway? Nothing. No one could do anything now, because they were literally missing from the planet. Until they were found. At least assuming that what they found was them. Two bodies…dis-remembered and eaten, without signs of their upper half. The mother of Violet recognized one of the bodies torn clothes to be hers…and the mystery was partially solved. The thing that took them had devoured one part of them and spat the other. Many years after that, no kids were allowed on the streets after seven, so it was mainly quiet after that. Yet, many years after that, the case was lingering around to find the killer, but…to no avail, which was why it was dropped a year ago. There were clearly no prints, no clues, no anything to pin it on someone, even with the help from my interrogation. I would have been rather ecstatic if they did find something. It simply was not real…or, maybe not alive. It would have been a myth told us by our parents to spook us, or make us obey their laws. I believe to this day, as I am watching the area for something unusual, that the thing that took those two little girls…was not a human. You cannot catch something that is not a human. There is not a way to trace its whereabouts because it is invisible. You simply cannot do anything but look around your shoulder anytime you hear something funny or out of place. He implants that curse on the ones that have seen his face. He likes to take the dread away from your body for it is his food, as is the body of a child that is pure. My grandma called him the “Bogeyman”. You cannot catch the boogeyman, but he can… [That Odd House] I do not understand why it always has to be the old abandoned house outside of the neighborhood that is the most interesting for the kids, and sometimes even the adults. Is it the gloomy look of the building, or the fact that no one even lives there, that brings attraction to it? Don’t know, but I guess, it was something that, in a way, combined our curiosity into a different kind of problem, one that made us dive into our need to explore the things we already knew were explored, yet wanted to see it for our own eyes. And what was there to see anyway? A rack that was nearly destroyed by weather itself and the age of the bricks and walls that had stubbornly sat there for however many years? No. It was the spooky rumors surrounding this place, which brought the visitors to seek out the truth behind this. Yet, as I walked towards the old ruin of a construction, I could not see the shine that could catch an eye. I mean, yeah, it could arguably make someone shiver just by looking at it, but, in all means, it was not as freaky as they described it to be. My mum always said that on that big ol’ cliff on the end of town, was a house that had an eerie feel to it. I couldn’t quite understand that meaning but, as I got closer to it, it did feel, somewhat off, just to be in the presence of such old thing. I wasn’t scared or anything, for all I know, no one had gone missing in this town, and those rumors were only that, a ruse to drive the kids away from that ruin. At least, that’s what mum told me to believe, and…she was always right. Mothers are always right! Right?! Anyway. As I said I wasn’t afraid of entering the house, so using my trusty brand new flashlight I guided my way into the entrance, wide open thanks to the absence of a door. Didn’t know why there wasn’t one there, but I guess all those storms that were uniquely attached to our state, brought destruction to this old thing. Taking a step further, I was now fully inside. The smell was…moldy and putrid, but thanks to my ability to not pay attention to smells I continued into the first story. The house itself was not as big now that I was inside it. Two stories that reached nearly eight feet height, and the overall wideness of the house was double the height. There stood a stairway leading to the second story, which itself had a two-way corridor that led to two sides of the second floor. That was for later. I started examining the first story. Its depth wasn’t interesting to say the least. Two rooms filled with nothing but garbage left out from junkies that weren’t afraid of it, and dust from the collapsed ceilings. I was hoping for it to not collapse on my head, as I continue slinking, quietly through the gusty air. With each step the wooden floors creek-ed and resounded through the whole house. Probably the folk down in town could hear those old planks that cried out like little kittens when they were stepped on, but I didn’t mind it, for it brought a strange solace. Maybe the understanding that someone, once lived here, gave me hope that this was not some place for urban myths to scare children. It was an ordinary house…just, collapsing…dying from old age. Thinking about that I climbed the staircase, seeing there were not any rooms left. Seems like the one that used to be the living room was filled with big blocks of bricks, ashes and dust from the collapsed ceiling, while one of the playrooms or whatever was filled with bugs that crawled all around the walls, floors and windows those that were not broken at least. That was mainly it. Right of the staircase was a bathroom, but I imagined from one of the bedrooms on the first floor, what it would look like in the bathroom so I decided to skip that. No use in inhaling even more things I probably should not have consumed. The second story was separated by a corridor as I said earlier, but it was not as spacious as downstairs. There were only two rooms and a bathroom in-between them. The stench from the bathroom was coming from behind the door so I wasn’t up for that. Instead, I turned right and headed for the room above the one with the insects. The closer I got to it thought, the tenser I felt. As if, my legs were trying to warn me to head back as fast as possible. No need for that, I had a mind on my shoulders. If I saw something remotely scary, I would blast off faster than you can say peanuts. However, as I saw the piled up bodies of dead people stacked together as if I was looking at a beef stew, I puked my heart out, and then once again. The bursting aroma of death pierced my mind and choked my throat. Limbs, ribs, half-eaten chopped legs, fingers, skulls, heads attached to hooks hanging from the ceiling, blood-shining crimson-ly painted walls were illuminated thanks to the light from my trusty gadget. Yet the thing that got me for the worse was the horrid smell of rotting flesh and the old torn limbs turned green. You could see the stages of decomposition of some of the corpses that weren’t even touched yet. Remains of old men, covered in tattoos. By the signs of it, I could recognize the stage of their decomposition as stage two. Their bodies looked bloated, covered in blisters everywhere and kindly added to the overall bliss of a smell to this house. Small insects had already covered the mass and were spreading. From the things i once learned, I remember I could give it at least five days…or less. Five days did this corpse lie here, stenching everything around…and no one knew? My question then was why the hell wasn’t I moving yet. Didn’t I say I would sprint like a maniac? Maybe, because the sight before my eyes had shattered everything childish in my mind. I had seen what death looks like…how scary life can be. Maybe…I was too afraid to move. Maybe, a different question was popping into my way too active brain. Where was the culprit that did this? No animal would hang those things to the hooks. No animal would pile their stacks of remains as if left for later. On the other hand, maybe, an animal did this. With that in mind…something away from me moved. The house creek-ed and the echo of a faint voice from behind startled me and made me finally move. The sound was coming from the only room I hadn’t checked yet. When I turned, I wished I never entered this wretched place. What I saw then, that was the thing that was gonna make me run, because the remains of the dead couldn’t harm me, but what killed those once alive people and chopped them to bits, could! The thing that was moving towards me, in small steps, was a corpse. It looked deformed, it had no eyes as it sockets were sunk-ed to the skull, with its nose completely gone, exposing two sets of holes to accompany the larger eye holes, as its skin looked dried of…like there wasn’t anything inside of this…this monster. You could count its ribs, and see where everything still functioning was. It was excessively too skinny to even move…but it did. Its skeletal hands were extended towards in a hugging gesture, yet the sharp nails protruding from its tender pencil fingers did not looks as friendly. My legs slowly moved as well, but towards the stairs. I did not want to die. My tears were stopping me from seeing clearly yet I moved closer and closer, as the skeleton of a thing did. But then, as I stepped on the first stair downwards…it creek-ed. “Fuck”. The living thing that looked dead looked directly at me, even if it did not have eyes. It could still hear anything. Its mouth cracked when it opened revealing nothing but sharp edges that were once teeth. Its scream blasted around the second floor as a siren would for a war. That was its battle cry. And I did not want to battle. As quickly as my two feet could run, I jumped the staircase and went through the open front door. Collapsing a second later, I fell flat on my face and figured I was done for. I waited for two seconds, but nothing happened. Turning around I saw it, breathing heavily from the furious effort it put to catch me. Yet, it wasn’t moving an inch outside the house. Then, as it made a faint like growl, it returned and walked upstairs. The shine of the moon outside was a welcome thing, but I wasn’t sure if I could handle sleeping ever again. I went back home, it was late, but mum was still waiting for me to have my dinner. She didn’t ask where I was neither did I say anything. She pleaded me to eat up countless times but I wasn’t even hungry. -What do you know about that old house atop the cliff… outside of town? - I asked and looked at her for hope I was not imagining it. Perplexed at first she did not answer but seeing my state she smiled and took the plate from the table. -You know, the old rumors of the wicked witch that lived there hundreds of years ago…it’s all baloney so don’t listen to it! Now as I remembered, i did not need to listen to her explain it anymore. The owner of that house was supposedly cursed to remain in that place until; every citizen of this town dies. It was killing for the curse to stop…and was eating everything in need for it to sustain itself. -In addition, once the witch is close to lifting the curse, she starts eating, until she’s ready to fight - said mum and stopped the water from the sink. I stared at her in a trans like state and didn’t know what to do. -But as I said, it’s all a myth so go to bed already! - she continued and left the kitchen. Frozen on the chair I started counting the living members of our small town. We weren’t more than one hundred, and it was damn close to lifting it. I vowed to stay away from that place, yet never fully recovered. I do not know if anyone lives there anymore…or if there is a witch that still dwells in that house. All I know is that once we moved away with mother, we no longer received calls from our next-door neighbors. [One Long Call] It happened to me when I was driving through the highway back home. The traffic was rather busy and cutting away from it was absolutely not possible, not if you didn’t want to end with a black eye. Driving back home from a long work trip was exhausting, yet thrilling as well. The wife was calling me every thirty minutes to check if I was getting closer and closer. The good old Dodge was giving it’s all, but thanks to this long line of vehicles blocking my entrance in the city, the idea of arriving on time was slim. That wasn’t enough to calm her down however, since my phone rang and rang. At times, I didn’t even check who the caller was; I would always pick up and hear her worried voice ask me stuff she already asked me. -Hey honey, are you getting close - I heard from the other side of the phone. Trying not to make my tone sound irritated I made so to tell her it was all taking so long because of the insane amount of cars in front of me. -Babe, I told you already, I’m not gonna be early for dinner, it’s getting ten past seven, and by the looks of it, this traffic ain’t gonna end till at least one or maybe two hours – I replied and listened to her worried responses. It was nice to hear someone worrying for you and that made me kind of excited to go back home. What was an hour when you haven’t been home for two weeks? I could wait it out here, listening to music and counting how many times the kid in the back of the car in front of me is gonna piss his father off, by asking him, “How much long are we gonna wait?”. Reading his father’s lips, I learned that if the boy asked again, he would be grounded for a week. I chuckled remembering times in which I did the same thing, but got away safely once we were home. A nice song came on the radio as soon as the father turned facing the road, and as my phone rang for the eight time. -Dear, I forgot to ask you if you want red or white wine, which do you prefer? – I heard from the speaker. I rolled my eyes and said I wanted red. She chuckled and hung up again. One more time and she would beat her record. I remember going to my home city when I learned of my father’s passing. She called me eight times until I got there, and later flew in to see me and help me with the funeral. It would be a funny story to have her break her own record in just a year’s spawn. But I guess…that was the part I loved about her the most. Even in times, I felt alone and destroyed by fate, she was there to help me with her compassion and warmth. Father was right about her. “She’s a keeper. No doubt if you call about having committed a murder, she would ask where to come to help” – he would say and laugh. It was true. She really did enjoy being by my side as do I enjoy being next to her. Even thinking about her and our memories made me frustrated to not be able to move faster. Ten more miles, and I had to move like a snail to pass by. That’s what I get for moving in the big city and not sticking to the smaller cozier one. Just then, the cars started moving a bit faster. That itself brought me hope I could make it earlier than I wanted. We were having a visit from our hometown friends and I really wanted to see them, for I was rushing so much. I did suspect that there was gonna be a special dinner prepared for my return, but even thinking of food made my stomach yarn for some filling substance. The lines were being cleared, but then they stopped again. I swore profoundly and leaned back on my seat. Then, again, my phone rang for the ninth time this long drive. She finally managed to beat the record. Without looking at who was calling me, I answered. -Hello dear, what’s up again? I waited to hear her sweet and innocent voice; worried about my state, but…instead I heard a sharp and long pause before a huge sigh. -Honey? – I called for her, to no avail. Beginning to feel strange, I called her again, but no one answered. I looked at my phone and didn’t recognize the number that was calling me. The only thing I could hear were car horns beeping and the wind coming through the speaker. -Is this some kind of joke here? I’m busy at the mome- -I’m sorry! – interrupted the unknown caller. He was sorry? About what? Asking him that didn’t bring me any answers, for the clearly male voice remained silent. Until he spoke again. -What’s your name? – He asked with a calm timbre, as if everything was okay in the world. -Joey. What is yours? – I said and asked feeling weird. -Noah Bates, I’m once again sorry to have you be the one to hear my voice, I was calling my ex fiancée but I guess I got the number wrong – he explained as smoothly as before. -No worries friend, it happens, well then goodbye! – I attempted to close, but he said something that made me feel scared. -I didn’t want to go away hearing the voice of a stranger, but then again, I’m deserving of having no one close to me to send me to hell – he mumbled but I understood it. Was this man…committing suicide? I felt my hand getting cold just by thinking I was speaking with someone who was moments from taking his life. -Wait, wait, I’m still here, and you don’t have to do this! Why would you want to end your life?! – I asked trying to help somehow. There was nothing coming from the speaker again, but then his voice again buzzed, but now it was heavier, as if he was fighting back tears. -I don’t have to do this? I wasted all my chances of having family, of having children of having a decent job. My parents are ashamed of me for being a drunk, my…my girl is afraid of me, and I was fired for my anger issues! Tell me, how can I fix this? – He asked, as I felt the strain of having to keep his pain of not being able to cry. My whole body felt goosebumps as he talked. Trying to figure out something, I tried convincing him not to do this. -Hey, come on now friend, you can fix everything up you just have to try! There are doctors that can help you, psychiatrists that can change your behavior and what not! There is always a door in which you can enter! – I nearly yelled feeling the guilt of not helping as much as I would like to. There was no response for a while and I thought he had done something to himself. Only the car beeps remained in the background and I didn’t know what to do. -I TRIED ALL OF THAT! – I heard him again, shouting and crying, - I tried! They all wanted money…a lot of money, and they didn’t even help me! I’m looking at them right now…at this bridge, I’m looking at all those faces trying to help me get out of the railings and escort me to the police. They do not wish to help me… - he said and then I heard all those voices from people. They were calling him to them, to come in front of the rails he stood behind. I tried looking above and saw a faint silhouette standing behind the rails of a bridge that lead to the other side of the highway. There was police trying to restrain him, medics and other personnel doing their best to convince him to go back with them, and not jump. I could see him feet moving slightly backwards, getting closer to the edge. That is why the traffic was so horrible. Noah was in the spotlights, making sure all those people watching him from the cars, get ruined by the sight of him dead on the ground. -Noah, please, don’t jump! There are kids watching! – I pleaded, but he said something to me and threw the phone. “I don’t know who you are Joey, but thank you for sending me away!” – was what he said before stepping away from the edge. I heard myself yelling, I saw the police officers rushing in trying to catch him. They weren’t fast enough. His body descended faster than anything I’ve seen. Couldn’t even managed to count to five, and Noah was on the ground. There wasn’t much to see. I couldn’t really anyway. What I saw was a broken man lying on a ground in a strange position, with his bones sticking out from odd places, with blood covering him like a puddle. I dropped my phone and cried. Cried for a man I didn’t knew…for I wasn’t able to save him from ending his life. I’m sure I could’ve said something differently or made a mistake of agitating him by saying all those things I did, but in the end…he was gone, spattered on the ground like a big meatball. The traffic was rerouted away from the landing zone, and we got to go safely out of there. I couldn’t stomach to look at his demolished body as I paced by, but I was sure they were going to show him on the news and explain to my wife why I was late. They did, and the officials explained that they could not get help from a rescue team on the ground because of the cars that were stacked. Which means, I indirectly was responsible, as were the rest of the drivers, for Noah Bates suicide. I was shaking all the way home, all my thoughts fixated on the thought I witnessed a man kill himself, in front of me, as he was talking on the phone with me. That was something I wouldn’t forget…a scar to remind of this day. Something to make me ignore calls that did not have a name on them, nor person or entity. A memory, of a quick call, that lasted an eternity. [Body Delivery] I was home. After so many endless days of uninterrupted work and strive for success, I was finally home. I hadn’t been home for more than one day, and now, three years since I started working in the company im currently working at, I am finally able to book two weeks of complete undisturbed vacation, at my house. However, this isn’t why I am writing this. My soul purpose in creating this letter is for the people who find me later, to understand the situation I was involved with. It is true that I remained confined within my own property for about a week and everything was going as fine and things can go, but, in the spawn of one fateful day, everything I’ve worked to create and built was ruined. You see, I work in an institution where the ones who work hard are rewarded, and those who envy them and can’t focus on one task…well, they envy. These low people are so fixated on the idea of having what others have, that they don’t fully grasp the idea of working hard to achieve something for yourself. And for the love of god, I busted my ass to get to the point where I was…only to have it slipped away, because of a man who doesn’t like working, and…has the money to pave his way, on top of the already paved street that I made. The name of the individual is Keneth Brian, thanks to the mailing company he used to send me the packages I got at exactly 11:23, when I was making lunch for my family. My wife had gone outside with the kids at around 08:10, and I didn’t know when they would be back, but I guess they would return for lunch, so I was preparing something in the kitchen when I heard a ring. I was expecting a new couch to arrive because my son had ruined the last one my writing on it with ketchup and then trying to pierce it with a fork. I didn’t suspect anything. Opening the door, I was greeted by a man who didn’t look as the usual delivery guy. Meaning that, most delivery personnel looked miserable and sad that they were up and going from house to house, but this young man, he had an energetic smile sprung wide on his face as if I was the thing he wanted see all day. He lifted his branded company hat and I glanced upon his curvy brown hair before seeing his piercing grey eyes staring me and handing me a paper to sign. “There are a few boxes you need to get from the truck. Eight packages total, so that will be…three hundred and fifty nine dollars, plus five for delivery, making three hundred and sixty four, total!”, he chirped nicely and handed me a pen to sign the “delivered” marking on the invoice. Following him to the truck, we started unloading it, and it took us about ten minutes to bring the load inside the house. After I paid in cash, he nodded and left the premises. Left alone with the packages and my complete dish, there were a few options, but I rather wanted to see the new couch assembled. For some reason…I didn’t notice the fact that it was eight pieces, but I guess the newer models have more parts to them. How wrong was i. Maybe, if I were there with them on that day…things wouldn’t be…so dark. However, what can I do now, when everything is over? Either way, I tried looking for instructions before opening the cardboard boxes the furniture was caged in, but there weren’t any. Only a single piece of paper, that had three sentences written on it. “The food for later would be a waste if not all the members of the family were present, right? It is most importantly that you show more interest for you wife and kid, instead of thinking about work. Why don’t you tell them you love them more often, hmm?” My whole body was covered in goosebumps as my mind started racing rapidly. Grabbing the phone and thinking of the worst things that could happen I dialed my wife and prayed for her to answer, but it went into voice-mail. Shaking I did not know what to do. How did this letter get in with the packages for the couch? Was it a couch even? Or was there something…something evil at work? It hurts me to say this, or write it…but there was something in those boxes. Something to unbox and ravel at, until you no longer feel the sadness grasping your breath and trying to make you suffer with every single time you glance at the innards of your own child. I was looking at my boy’s severed head, as his blue eyes only conveyed fear and horror, captured on them, moments before death. My kid was chopped in three pieces and stored in three boxes, while my wife, in five. I sobbed, as I hadn’t in years. Crying tears of absolute destruction and agony. They weren’t here anymore. There no longer would be days when I wake up with my boy by my side, trying to wake me up so I can help him with a game or something. No more nights where I talk with my sweet wife, whom i didn’t say, “I love you” as often as I should’ve. No more me, as they were no more as well. Now, if you are reading this message, police officer or detective…know this. I am no longer in the living circle because there wasn’t anything more for me to do. Yet, there is something, you need to do. I found Keneth’s name as I mentioned on the receipt of the packages, thanks to the delivery guy who probably forgot to hide it or take it away, as he mentioned he was new at the job. It’s in your hands now to end this façade of a player he is…and bring justice, in the name of my deceased family. Thank you. P.S I love Jossy and Micheal with all my heart, which is why I have decided to join them wherever they are. Goodbye! [The Curse of Set-Part 1] This is going to be a way for me to share everything I have experienced for the last couple of weeks. Now, before I continue on, I would like to make amends to everyone who suffered a gruesome fate by the “force” that we’ve been dealing with. I myself hurt badly, both mentally and psychically, which is why I shall keep this as short as possible, until it gets closer and closer to me. You might think that we were stupid enough to go the full way on this project, but…I have to be perfectly honest. My job as an archeologist is to find long forgotten items from the past…and make so that all the people who are interested in seeing them, see them. That being said, I hope people don’t take me for a fool for I haven’t listened to the guide that was with us, helping us on our way through the big discovery. The whole operation wasn’t that big at start. People thought that they were digging out some form of small sanctuary of sorts, yet, when a local farmer came by, he witnessed something that made him yell at us. By some miracle…or maybe curse, we had struck upon a golden mine of archeological glory. Our association found a lost temple of Set. The temple itself wasn’t that bad in shape, yet it still needed quite of supervising for the whole thing to be dug out by the excavators. The front entrance reached seven feet, and was being held by two pillars that looked like they were built thousands of years ago. The temple itself seemed like it led further down underground rather than being an above one. Either way…I have some audio footage I would like to play, so you can hear how then, we didn’t know what he had gotten ourselves into. You can hear the happiness in my voice from the very start. “Lennon Konnery, here and with very good news. We have finally managed to dig out the remaining arc of the entrance of the temple of Set. We probably would not have known it was his, rookie mistake, I agree, but either way, it is still another brilliant discovery here in Egypt that no doubt, is going to be renowned for the ages. Are you glad Kay?” (Kaytlin Loselin takes the recorder.) “Why of course, I am Lenny, why shouldn’t we be!? We just uncovered something ancient, something the people before us created in order to serve one of the most controversial, if I can say this about him, god in Egypt, Set.” “Hah! You can say that again, chopping up your own brother in pieces because you want the crown is more than controversial Kay, but I bid you not, this happened many a moons ago, and I am more than sure, that this temple was built with the intend of his followers to praise him and ask him for his help. What do you think about that? “Most certainly, I sure hope so, however I am not that keen into the details of his legacy, so I would like to introduce to us the person who actually managed to help us in finding this historical site, mister Abasi, a local farmer that clearly knows them more than us, huh? “ (Laughter follows.) “Hello, my name is Abasi Mohamed, and I helped those good people dig this sand and find this cursed place” (A slight awkwardness follows with him not knowing what more to say.) “Why do you think so Mr. Abasi? Is there something wrong with us uncovering this temple? “, asked Kay. “Not that there isn’t , it is just known that whenever someone finds something that shouldn’t be found, something bad happens, and I don’t want to see anything bad happening, yet…there is this legend, that wherever there is a temple dedicated to Set, something bad happens.” “I don’t believe something bad will happen to us mister. But I would like to know more about this temple now that the excavators are almost finished in uncovering the tunnel leading to the contends of this odd place.” , said Lennon. I stopped recording for there were still people digging out sand and soil that had hardened by the temperatures lowering at night. We did not want to waste any more of the time so once the cleaners gave us the green light, he headed straight into the tunnel. Here is my second recording. “Lennon here again folks. We have just entered the temple. It is strangely underground as we mentioned earlier, but even so, it is still as exhilarating as anything we’ve even found, or perhaps even better!” “I don’t know Lenny, this seems to be the biggest and most amazing site we’ve uncovered from the past years, and to top it off, everything seems in working shape. People cannot see, but all the beams leveraging the ceiling above us looks stronger to hold out even a thousand years more. There are even signs on old candelabras in different shapes and places to help guide those who walk down to the center of it all”. “What astonishes me the most is the fact that this was alive, like, people were actually coming here and were doing something with this sort of temple. As you said Kay, everything to the beams, candles and even carpets remain as vibrant, well, partly dusty, but still sturdy. Now, however, we are right before the actual room or basement, I don’t exactly know the right word of the temple. We can see a large stone table and….oooof, the smell is harsh right?” “Sure is, this is thanks to the fruit. Worshipers were bringing in order for Set to listen to them. Now most people think of the God as an evil one, but before his vilification, he was known for, or, he is known for being the god of deserts, storms, chaos, and most intriguingly in violence. Now, before we entered, Mr. Abasi shared that most people wanted to offer certain sacrifices for the god, which was why the temples existed, even though different of regions believed he was evil.” “Exactly Kay, and with that, we can confirm that there are in fact quite of offerings that we can see, that were stored here for millennia. Not only that, there are offerings in the forms of animals and even…are those sarcophagi?” (Silence for a moment.) “I believe so Len…people would even store there remaining’s here, so that Set would, help them, or guide them in the afterlife. Yet I don’t truly think that is the case.” “Maybe they mummified themselves in order to make the deity entrust them with some form of life after death? We could not exactly know the facts, but that is why we have historians. They will share more details. Now, crew and I will head back for now, and come back tomorrow with a live camera and report this massive site to the whole world!” (Strange rumbling heard through the recorder.) “Oh my, we have to go now!” , resounds the voice of Lennon. (Inaudible screams for help.) “It’s going to collapse on us!” , shouts the terrified voice of Kaytlin. (Large wave of static follows.) This is where the recording stops. Unfortunately, we lost Kaytlin that day, and two of the crewmembers that were overlooking the safety of this operation. Ironically, the thing we thought was sturdy only appeared to be so…or so I thought. The whole tunnel over our heads started falling on top of us, and we had to run for it a fast as possible. I was both saddened and happy for I managed to survive that, thinking it was some kind of miracle, two for one day, but that wasn’t the case, at least for Mr. Abasi’s mind. He told me this after I barely got away. “You woke him up…his spirit is within us, and shall not stop until he has his offerings!” Yet, only yesterday did I found that Mister Abasi has suffered a heart attack and has passed away. Of course, I didn’t believe him. How could i? However…as the weeks passed each and single one of the twenty-member team…started perishing one after another. I am scared, for I am the only one left. My arm hurts more than usual, the one I broke as I was trying to escape. Sadly, the rest of the people with me, were crushed. I will end this note open for now, because…I can no longer stay awake. I am weak and need some rest. Even in my sleep, I feel the pain though…of loss, and ache. Moreover, even there, I am haunted by the thought of the old farmer’s words. “He shall not stop, until he has his offerings!” Each night, I can hear something that sounds like a howl, distorted, as if five or more animals are doing it in one single tone…something is coming for me. The curse…might be real. [The Curse of Set-Part 2] Lennon Konnery was not feeling well enough to continue telling the story of his downfall, so I shall step forward and explain in detail how his life, felt like hell ever since they dug out that lost temple. It was difficult for him to even believe he had lost his precious crewmates just like that. That and the guilt of not being able to do anything made it worse for his sleep, and overall personal health. Dreams clouded his mind each time his eyes closed, dragging him back to that day, showing him the sight of the rocks crushing the bones of the people that died. The difference between that and the real event was that he was the initiator of the whole ordeal. The temple had collapsed, as if he was a magician controlling and commanding the big boulders. Waking up afterwards was even harder. Trying to process something that didn’t happen, yet felt so vivid, is nerve wrecking, and Lenny, that poor man, wasn’t really up for these type of attacks. He wasn’t really up for anything in that matter. He just gave in to the trauma and tried forcing his way through it. Drinking up as much as water as possible, trying to eat so he doesn’t stay hungry. Everything to make him forget about the dreams. The fears in his sleep didn’t end though, only increased in dosage. The nightmare rose to a higher level, as he wished he was in the wreck, dying along with the rest. However, as the previous ones, only he survived, learning that he was the one who actually did it. Repeating over and over again in his head was the thought of him being guilty of killing Kay and the crew. The overlapping spot on his shirt, that he is a murderer. Was he? Did he do it? No. On the other hand...the question probably isn’t if he did, or should’ve they dug out the temple, of an entity, deity if you will…known to be evil? Nothing can truly answer that, but the conscious in his mind. Would it not be rude to be awaken from a total stranger trying to film something he barely understands in attempt to gain something of monetary value? Achieve fame and recognition of the fact he uncovered something known to be long forgotten? Questions he didn’t bother to think about it when he was ordering the excavators to dig deep in the sand and soil covering the tomb. Nope, Lenny did not really want to think about disturbing some sort of God, because frankly, he didn’t believe they existed. Nor did he even glance the thought of there being a curse on it. A lingering magic, waiting, patiently waiting for a host, a patient if you prefer. Old and dreadful wickedary wanting to cause harm and damage upon said vessel. Wanting nothing more, but to disturb as the host did to the temple. That is exactly why Lenny wasn’t feeling good. Plainly said, he was suffering from the curse set upon to him by the temple’s name bearer. Even if he thought the gods don’t exist anymore…he is laughably wrong. They are still there, and they want nothing more, but to punish those to make fun of their homes. That being said, Lennon was in a horrible mood the entire span of the curse. The last week was probably the worst. On Monday, he woke up to the sounds of howling beside his bed. The dog like noise continued for the entire day, even as he laid to rest in the night. It escalated to a point where he didn’t even recognize the type of cry the howl was producing, or to which animal it belonged. Next day he suffered yet another attack of the same dreadful dream of him, killing his friends in the temple. However, he had gotten around it, by trying to eat as much as possible, in order to escape from their captivating illusions. His fridge was nearly empty, by the end of the day, but they still hadn’t ceased. He didn’t even know how he got to the next day. As soon as he woke up, he could feel the…sensation of horror. Something was there with him…but he couldn’t see it. He could hear the voices of Kay, and his mates from the crew, could hear the resonating howl of the creature he didn’t recognize…and above all…he could see, the lurking shadow following him everywhere he went in the house. It was driving him crazy. At one point, he stopped moving entirely and stared at his reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink. His face once red and full of life and excitement was now deteriorated, pale, his eyes sunken from the lack of sleep. His lips were chapped and each time he licked them, a slight sting pierced his mind. Even moving his mouth was no longer effortless, thanks to the unnecessary amounts of food he had devoured over the last month of confinement in his home. On Thursday, one by one, his teeth started breaking and falling from his jaws. Blood covered his mouth as if he had led a fight with his pillow all night long. Contributing to that were the lingering sounds and shadows behind him. Friday felt horrible, as his legs started giving out. First, his teeth, now his limbs were failing him. Lennon couldn’t even get up and go to the toilet, letting his urine stain the sheets in gold. He cried all day, until he couldn’t even think about his own thoughts. Saturday came slower as possible. His arms were now unresponsive. Everything about his body was slowly collapsing. The things that stuck around were cries of animals, five voices mixed into one haunting growl. A shadow, now turning clearer and colorful with each passing hour. By Sunday, Lennon was nearly dead. His whole body had been broken from the inside. He smelled like shit. Even the garbage bins filled with old cans of mackerel and pasta had a significantly better aroma than his bedroom. It wasn’t his fault…well, it was…be he couldn’t do anything to prevent it from happening. It was bound to happen. His demise was now visible. The shadow was no longer dark and mysterious, but plainly visible to the eyes. Covered in a dark cloak wasn’t a man, but a beast. There wasn’t an animal to pick from to make an association to the fearsome creature standing before him. It was quietly growling something indistinguishable. Lennon looked into its black eyes and saw nothing but hatred, rage, anger and darkness staring back at him. The creature resembling parts of different animals produced something like a laugh, a taunting one, one to make you feel sorry for yourself. Moreover, Lennon did feel that way. Sorry to have ever agreed to be the host of that stupid archeologist site. He regret accepting the contract of digging different zones in Africa in search of lost treasure and whatnot. Yet, even understanding the situation he was in and crying knowing his regret couldn’t save his life…he knew, deeply in his soul, that his fate was irreversible. Moments before he closed his eyes forever he witness the god creating a small black veil from the air itself. It descended and covered his body entirely. It was warm…warm and comfortable. He wanted to sleep inside this blanket like magical thing, but the god did not have that it mind. The veil soon grew cold…colder to the point in which he could barely even feel his breath. Soon his heart stopped beating as it would normally. The jackal like creature then grinned. If an animal could look as if it was enjoying something, then this thing was grinning. With that…Lennon fell to the hex he found himself. That is how he died. By the Curse of the Temple. The Curse of Set. It was real. He was real. The gods…are real, and their rage when they are disturbed…it is nightmarish. Set watched his body slowly empty itself from the waters and shrink, and dust away. He laughed and soon vanished himself, not before murmuring, “Let he lay in Duat, and suffer the coldness as Ra is not there to guide him in the light. Let there be fires, from the coldest winds in the night.” [Broken Spirit] Why did they always have to make fun of him for being slightly chubby, smart and overall quiet? Roy was nothing but good to them, and all they did was reflect his good behavior and smack him back with negativity and insults that tarnished the boy’s mind and made him feel like garbage for acting like a normal human. Even if he was thrown trash at from the other students, he wasn’t throwing back at them, because he was taught that if you do something good for a person, there is always good that follows. Not this time however. Nothing good ever came his way from them. Only polished and well organized attacks and rubbish as a welcome for the morning, then launch and finally at the end of the day. By the time Roy was home, his face was covered in tears, he had shed walking. He could’ve taken the bus, but he knew that the attacks would continue there as well, which is why he liked walking, and to add, he lived ten minutes from the school so it wasn’t a big deal. What the deal was, that each day, he felt betrayed, broken, and dirty from all the shit the other kids were pulling on him. Yes, he was overweight but that was because he wasn’t going out more as he used to. He liked being home and helping his mother, while his father worked. His parents were the main source of happiness and would often go and hug them unintentionally, just because he wanted to feel warm, and be surrounded by love. One day, as he was walking home, alone, and brought up with thoughts about human behavior, he was startled by his phone’s ring. Looking at the caller, he was surprised to see it was his dad. -Hey dad! – He answered the phone quickly and felt a slight wave of joy to have his parent call him. -Hello Roy, im calling to let you know I won’t be making it home for tonight. My boss gave me a task to go and check something out of town, so I will be gone for two or maybe three days. Let mommy know, alright? How’s she? – He said quickly, awaiting an answer. The joy from hearing him quickly turned to sorrow, having to learn he wasn’t going to make it back. -Yeah dad, don’t worry, I will tell mom, she’s fine, a bit down but fine, good luck on your job! – He ordered his voice to sound bright and not heavy from the lump stuck in his throat. After that the call ended, and Roy continued walking, sagging his feet, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go home anymore. Sure, his mother was there, but she was heartbroken by the fact she was laid off last night from her job. Her boss said the staff was quite packed and she wasn’t needed anymore, hence why she was crying all day long when he got home. If she was sad, and he was sad, his dad was away…who was going to make his darkness into light? -Hey mom, are you feeling better? – Roy asked her, hugging her gently. She grunted and murmured something that sounded like “leave me”. That hurt him as well. Probably more than the insults he got for the day. Not only was she his mother, but he wanted to help her. Isn’t it normal for a child to want to help in a way, knowing he can’t do anything to calm down the volcano of pain that is the weight on the shoulders of any parent? Asking himself that question, he went to his room, feeling ignored and forgotten by all, even his father. The one, who was perhaps the biggest support in his life, was now somewhere in the next town, reporting something for the news company he worked at. Taking a big sigh, he closed his eyes, trying not to think about anything but homework and doing his best to keep his grades up. The next day, was the single worst day in his life. Not only did he get insulted on his way to school by a small group of the bullies that usually attack him, but also he was slammed before the first bell and during the math test, they were having. One kid blamed him for cheating and copying the answers. Roy wouldn’t even bother looking at the kid, knowing his intellect and knowledge is flawed. Yet, the teacher still believed the bully and automatically failed Roy, who for the first time felt something besides sadness. That feel later escalated when the same guy dumped an entire box of chocolate milk over his white trousers. Then finally later in the day when school was over. Three of the bullies dunked him in a trash bin, covering him literally with trash. Roy then felt nothing but hatred. No more sorrow, no more self-pity. Only hatred towards the world and its broken system of judgement. He reeked badly the rest of the walk home. At least it was Friday; he would not have to deal with those bastards for two days. Unfortunately though, the school bus passed just by him. With opened back windows, the bullies hanged on them and scanned for Roy, who was afraid they were up to no good again. Without even understanding the situation, a barrage of rotten tomatoes from the bin flew his way. Some hit his face, some his shirt, some even the trousers that were already recolored. The bus exploded with laugher as it passed by the street. Leaving the boy torn even more. “Why should a person endure such humiliation?” he asked himself. No answer dawned in his mind. Only hatred remained. Hatred that clouded the warmth of a parent. Disdained the brightness that is the light of love. The joy he once felt when he saw his mother was no longer, as she looked annoyed with him. Her face resembled belittling, as if the things that were happening were casual and not problematic. He greeted her, but she looked angry. She was, but she looked angry with him for some reason. -Your teacher called, you failed the math test! Why were you cheating?! – She asked and didn’t give him a chance to explain, - How many times have I told you to do your homework right and not worry about exams or tests! Look at yourself! You have an “F” in your record now! Grounded! – She shouted hysterically and slammed the door of the room she came out from to “welcome” the boy. Roy couldn’t believe his ears. “Grounded?” He was being yelled at for something he wasn’t at fault for. She didn’t notice his look. The tears that sprouted even more as he looked in disbelief. The trousers, shirt and messy hair from the bullying. She was way too caught up with herself, not seeing his pain. That, combined with the previous deeds the people pulled on him drove him mad. No love or light could help him drive this thought into obscurity, as he loved doing before. No argument could logically explain the hatred other people had for him. The only nature that could somewhat make sense to him, was that people were naturally evil from the beginning of the story of the humans. However, knowing that, Roy could feel something along with that. Maybe, those people weren’t human. Weren’t good enough to live minding their own damn business. Which was why…he had to do something, something to change the way he lived. For the actions he was about to take, for the rest of the days he was going to make a plan. Two more days in pain, and then, eternity in peace. Without thinking about being good and behaved anymore…he went into his parent’s bedroom, took the black leather briefcase and opened it. There lied the firearm lethal weapon of his father. Roy wasn’t particularly sure from whom to start, but when his mother shouted, -Hey failure, come and make me a hot drink right now! I will beat you up later, for the “F”, - He knew where to begin. Two more days, and his father was going to have a brutal new story to cover. Roy imagined the articles and shook, feeling the sensation of giving in the darkness. “A broken kid shoots fifteen kids in cold blood, murders his mother and later takes his life”. One more tear appeared on his face and crossed his grin. No more pain. He couldn’t feel anything anymore. His spirit…was no more. [The White Cat] Marty was a little boy. He didn’t understand what it meant for a person to “pass away”. “Where was he going to go?”, “How long was he going to pass for?” his little mind asked, yet no answer followed that could satisfy his curiosity. The truth of the matter was that his grandfather was dead. All knew, but telling him upright wasn’t the best move to pull on a boy who was still seven. Even though, he would constantly ask his father or mother, or grandma, where did pa’ go. Too shaken or heartbroken, the only answer they could give was, “He is a star now”. That…well, even if it was correct, it was strange. How did he manage to turn into a star? What was the process like? Questions, which needed answering. Yet, understanding a bit of the situation, Marty didn’t ask his parents anything, seeing as their eyes were still freshly red from the amount of salty tears they painfully cried. What he did was the only logical thing to do for a normal boy. He sat outside of the cemetery and sat on a small crooked bench. His suit was covered in mud down on the ankles from all the mud on this chilly winter day. At least there wasn’t snow. He wiped most of the dirt with a wet wipe and continued staring at everything else besides crying relatives and sadness overall. What more could there be to a cemetery though? There wasn’t a way for there to be anything slightly close to happiness, or something remotely fun. Of course, he knew that. He wasn’t completely lost in the worldly deeds that rotate on the lives of people. Marty was just unsure about what to do. He had tried so many times to calm his grandma down, to make her crying stop for it was making him sad and hopeless for his actions weren’t doing anything to make her…smile again. Nor did his mother smile. His father was the only one that remained stoic, he didn’t shed a tear, yet he could feel his ache, even if it wasn’t shown to the rest of the family. “Staying strong for your mother and grandma is always the priority son, don’t forget that!” he told him before they placed the casket in the ground. He listened to the words, the message his father told him, yet he wasn’t sure if he understood that. Maybe because he was already staying strong for them and wasn’t giving into the emotion of crying, even if he wanted to. Listening to his grandma’s cries from afar still brought him immense sadness, and suddenly his eyes watered, but Marty didn’t let the tears fall. That was what his father probably meant by staying strong. Not showing vulnerability. Marty quickly brushed his eyes with the back of his fingers and took a small breath. With the newfound strengths and motivation, he sighted something he didn’t earlier. A furry animal walking almost silently towards him. Its whiskers weren’t long, yet distinguishable along the blue eyes it bore. Its fur looked so soft; Marty couldn’t wait for the feline to come closer. And it did, step after step with its small paws, the four legged came by the bench. Marty forgot about everything else. He only wanted to look at the cat sitting on its back legs. -Hello! – He said cheerfully. The cat meow-ed in reply. -Are you lost little one? – asked the boy, surely thinking the cat would reply again. The eyes staring at him didn’t waver. It seemed like it wasn’t lost. Marty figured it belonged to the church close to the cemetery. He scanned the cat from head to tail and didn’t see any signs of harm. -May I pet you? – He asked gently, not extending his hand. The cat meow-ed again. It seems that was its answer for questions, which could be answered with yes/no. Marty smiled and ran his small hand over the cat’s back and softly caressed its white fur, so white, it almost outshined snow. He then moved closer to the head, where he scratched behind its ears. The lovely cat purred and moved its body to the movement of his hand. Marty almost wanted to hug the small animal, but didn’t do it, for it was uncalled for to do something without first asking the cat. His hand lifted up and the cat quickly licked one placed where he caressed. -Boy, I needed that… - He said to himself, - Thank you…umm…I do not know if you have a name, so henceforth I will call you…, - and Marty looked around for something besides tombstones, mortuaries, and other things resembling death. Even if he had looked, there clearly wasn’t anything close to be accepted as light. Then, even if he thought it rather felt morbid, he named her, -Cemy…yea, you will be known as Cemy from now on, since I met you in the cemetery – he declared and gently massaged its head. Cemy purred and then meow-ed. It stood up, and turned around. Walking towards a tree closer to the building of the church, it stopped, turned around and meow-ed again. Marty figured it wanted him to follow. He stood up and glanced at the sight of the people still gathered at the hole in which the casket still laid. The cat was at the tree, once again sitting on its back legs. Marty walked to the tree, and sat on the slightly cold grass around. -Well, Cemy, what should we do here? – He said and looked at the cat’s blue cores. The white coated feline got closer to him, and climbed on his lap. It meow-ed again. The boy figured it wanted to be caressed again, so he softly ran his hand through the fur and felt the softness of its coat. As he did…his eyes clouded with a dark curtain, he didn’t see. The fog of black then scattered and revealed a memory, a memory taken from a person he knew. His…grandfather. It was in his head, looking at himself. Then he got to a point in which his parent was meeting with someone. Another woman…quite younger than his wife…prettier, elegant, bearing blue eyes and white hair. He only wanted to extend flowers for her, yet she declined them. Feeling sick he came back home to his wife. He didn’t know why it was happening but his heart was racing faster than before. His mind rushed into thinking he was being punished for cheating on his wife who was with him for more than thirty years. Crying, his grandfather passed away the same night, of guilt, of regret. Marty, then finally opened his eyes, though, they were opened. His vision brightened and now, he could only see the cat. It was showing him the moments before and reasons for his grandfather’s death. He could understand, but didn’t understand why he was being shown that. The cat meow-ed looking at his eyes that were all confused. He smiled at Cemy, and kind of understood why. She was making him feel better, and understand the reason behind the passing. He nodded and asked if he could hug her. Cemy purred in return and the boy gently wrapped its hands around the small animal and closed his eyes. The moment was sweet and helped him feel better. He didn’t know if he was going to understand why his grandfather did that…but probably, adults did those sort of things. -Am I going to do like, grandpa did? – Marty asked the feline as it looked at him calmly. He smiled feeling as the creature was answering him, by not doing so. For the first time in a few days, he was once again smiling without a reason. He was just happy. All thanks, to this white cat. [Only for Entertainment] [Volume Final] Once he opened his eyes, he made out that…he wasn’t in his car. In fact, no one was. Not his daughter or his wife. They were in a basement of sorts. The first thing he saw was his family; all tied up to two pillars, front facing him. He himself was tied in a matter in which he couldn’t move his body. Only his right hand was extended also via pole, and was tied in a way where he could move his wrist as he pleased. Livia was asleep, while Joanna looked around with a glare of fright. -Honey, are you okay? – asked the tied man, looking at Joanna. His wife fixated her sight on him and immediately started crying rivers. -Oh Mark, tell me this is some kind of prank! Please! – She cried out, startling little Livia in the process. -Mom? – She muttered as she started waking up, - Where are we? What happened? – asked the girl looking around. Mark wasn’t sure either, but answered honestly. The last thing he remembered was that they got in the car all together, and a minute inside…they suddenly fell asleep. -Don’t worry honey, it is all a prank, you will see – replied the father and started trying to break free from the tight ropes that carved more and more into his skin with each pull. Joanna looked around as well, but the only thing besides the two large wooden poles, was a chair and a large hammer. -I could try ripping the rope and taking the hammer, with it, I could break the poles, and we could escape! – said the mother and attempted to free herself. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed though. The ropes weren’t those regular ones where it was a single piece of string. It was a big batch of twisted textile, which wrapped around their bodies almost perfectly. She still tried. The rope didn’t give up so easily as she thought, making that plan rather redundant. Mark tried to break free, but the hard materials of the rope only made him feel more pain. -Daddy I want to go home! – Cried little Livia. She was struggling to get out as much as she could, but alike her mother and father, her results weren’t blissful. She was close to freezing and that itself was bad news. Old memories of her being scared resurfaced in his thoughts, but now wasn’t the time for that. All they could do, was stand there, all tied up…to the wooden poles, thick and unbreakable. -Mark, do you know who could be doing this? – asked Joanna while trying to calm down the little girl. His brain raced but none of the people he knew could have possibly done this. There was no need, he did not have enemies, nor did he care if he did. His job was to sale cars, what kind of enemies does a car salesmen have? -No dear, I do not think someone we knew did this…- he replied running through all the people he knew once again. Both their eyes locked into a hopeless stare down, as if it was going to be the last time they would see each other. Her hair was brushed to the side revealing her young and kept face with no wrinkles or freckles or any kind of abnormality. Maybe now, in this situation a large slit over her forehead was formed from stress. Her eyes greenly reflected himself, staring at her anxious body. It wasn’t his thing to be scared of something bad happening, but right now, Mark didn’t feel lucky. His mind then turned to his little girl that looked as if she was numb and almost unimpressed by these strange matters. She was frozen in fear, and it was clear it was going to take some time before she goes back to normal. Her swollen eyes were bluer than before, making her raven strands glow in this dark place. If not for himself, Mark was more afraid about them. They were his everything, and he didn’t want to lose them. Not that he was going to; his brain was only giving him thoughts about something bad happening. That sort of mindset wasn’t going to lead to nowhere. -Okay, let’s stay focused on the task of escaping this place, we don’t know where we are, I don’t believe we have a way to contact someone, so I suggest we start screaming for help in an attempt to bring someone to us! – suggested the father and looked at both of the girls. Only the mother nodded, and he counted to three, as their voices combined into a siren that could even wake up the dead. They screamed with all they had. Now the only thing they could do…was wait…and they didn’t wait long, in fact, they didn’t wait at all. -Ah, so my starts have woken up, huh? – said a voice, coming from behind a door leading to somewhere. A man dressed in a red suit entered the room. His leather shoes shined with a red hue as the light of the bulb illuminated a small amount of things in the room. His trousers, shirt, vest and coat were red. His tie was even red. As the man came closer to the others, they could see that his hair was red. That bright nuance of the color. Everything was matching; the only odd thing was his slight smirk. -Well, now that all the players are awake, we shall commence the game; - He stated and clapped his hands. Joanna immediately started asking him tons of questions, questions he said, were pointless. -Look people, we are all here to have some fun! I know I took you guys by force, sorry, but for the fun games to be actually fun, they need to be kept secret! – explained the man gesturing towards the place. -Why are we all tied up!? – continued Joanna. She was viciously trying to force her way out of the dilemma. The red man chuckled and sat on the chair that they saw before. He crossed his legs and then his fingers on top. -Look. You are a part of a…experiment of mine. I cannot explain the details, until it is proven right or wrong. Until then, I suggest you all to behave and do your parts as instructed, okay? - He stood up and grabbed something from the pocket of the jacket. It was a gun. His eyes, darkened by the sight of it. He then turned to Mark, and placed the firearm in his extended hand. It was sticky and it glued to his skin perfectly. -Now, we can finally begin. Mark here has a pistol. It contains one 9mm bullet in a perfectly functional Luger. The task is simple. I have to ask him a question, and if he answers me correctly, he can move on to the next round and so on and so on. However, if he chooses wrong, he had to make a really important decision, and pay attention because this is the most important bit. He has to decide whom to shoot between Joanna and Livia! – explained the red man, gesturing as if he was in TV show. -WHAT?! – yelled the parents, almost in sync. -You can’t fucking make me do this! – exclaimed the father. -This is illegal release us, this instant! – demanded the mother. They tried with all their might to free from the chains that were the ropes, but no one managed to untangle from this twisted vise. Mark even tried pointing the gun at the man, but his wrist could extend only soo little. -Now, now…please, don’t be like this, I am only trying to question the stability in a persons mind and see how would they perform in certain scenarios, nothing more! – He said, but couldn’t help but chuckle. -Screw you man! I don’t even know you, why don’t you just let us go! – Mark shouted at the man, trying fiercely to do something. -But that is the most important thing. You don’t need to know the person you are going to be examining. The more you don’t know about them, the better the results from their actions. Mark tried forcing his hand to unleash the gun, but it was way too sticky, and the surface was already fused with him. -We won’t be in this game! Leave us alone and we won’t press charges or call the police, just leave us here! – pleaded Mark, looking at his daughter. Joanna tuned in to, trying to make the red man believe and release them from this strange place. -I am sorry, this is mainly for science! I will not let you go, without my results…so, unless you want to speed up the process…- he said and took the large hammer from the ground, - I suggest, we start now! – explained the man in a deeper, scarier than before voice, taking a step towards Livia, who still didn’t believe this was actually happening. -Okay, okay. Do not hurt her; please, I will play this game! – accepted the tied father and felt as if everything was going to end badly. The red man brushed his hair backwards and smiled. -Well then, let us begin! – announced the well-dressed fellow and pointed at Mark. He took two steps and was now in between all three of the tied participants. -We will start with an easy one. Mark, do you sell cars? – asked the red man. He nodded, but the man continued looking at him, waiting for a proper answer. -Yes, I sell cars in town, working for a dealership specializing in 4x4’s mostly “Range Rovers”. The red man nodded and asked another question. -Do you love your work? – Mark felt stupid answering those things, but looking at the hammer and the hopelessness he was in, there wasn’t another way. -Yes, I do. There is not a day in which I go there miserable – he answered, trying his best to sound honest. The suited fellow seemed intrigued by his answer, yet continued with a hand holding his chin. -Mark, do you love your family? – He asked, still holding his chin with his palm. -Well of course I do! – answered the man instantly. There wasn’t even a slight hesitation in that. -Yes, but there are here, aren’t they? If you truly loved them, you would have made it so to not let them be in danger! – pointed out the man. He…well, he was right. If Mark had done better in terms of protection, they would be doing something better right now. -Don’t listen to him Mark, he’s playing with your mind! – Agitatedly said Joanna, who was watching all of this with pure dread in her stomach. The red man told her to keep quiet. -Now, Mark, one last thing and we might be closer to the finish line. What do you think; the future will bring to your family? – asked the red man and looked at him directly, intensely, as if he was waiting for something to happen. Feeling uneasy, he tried answering. -I strive to bring happiness and positivity into my family. The future cannot be imagined, it can only happen. I do want to make sure that everything is fine, that my girls are safe and happy with my job and the stability we have in our community. Which is why I would say, I would like the future to be as is the present now – said the tied man and looked at the red fellow. He was smiling. Not smirking or anything, smiling as if he was remembering something special. -This is where you are wrong Mark…you cannot change the past, but you can try to alter the future. Yes, sometimes things are written one way, and trying to do them another, often leads to nowhere…but now, I shall like to confuse your future and ask you to choose the fates of your two girls – calmly explained the red man. -Wait, why?! Didn’t I answer correctly? – He asked looking at his wife and daughter with a scared look. Joanna started crying, while Livia remained untouched. She was petrified from fear and didn’t move at all. She used to do that when she was little, and hadn’t frozen like that in a long time. -You answered correctly, but that is the entire point in this game. You said what you thought was right, only for me to throw a curve ball and make everything mess your head up. So, which one shall you shoot?! – He asked again, this time griping the hammer with both hands. -I will not shoot anyone! You hear me! I won’t do it! Mark was yelling but that didn’t seem to do the trick. The red man got behind Livia, who was still frozen, and extended the hammer in the air. -Do not make me choose for you Mark, this is your game not mine! The tied father couldn’t bear to watch. His fingers were all sweaty, and his hands shaking. Thinking about shooting one of his own was a thing that could break a person. Thinking of shooting anyone at that matter was exhausting. However, having to pick one, seeing what would happen if he didn’t, made it worse. Joanna was pleading with the red man to let her little girl go, to pick her, to hit her with the hammer and not harm Livia. -Mark make him stop, shoot me, don’t let him harm her! Please! – She yelled and cried from the hopeless position she was in. -You are a freak!!! Making us go through this! A goddamn freak! – shouted the tied man and let the tears stain his sight. The hammer ascended even more. If he struck her with that inertia, her head would explode from the impact. Mark knew that, which was why he pleaded for him to stop. The red man wasn’t going to though. His patience was gone. The hammer started collapsing downwards, going through a course for the head of little Livia. A loud bang followed, echoing in the small basement, stopping the hammers flow. A bit of smoke came out of the old Luger, with a single 9mm bullet, shot, directly in the heart of Joanna. Mark was broken. So was the heart of the mother, having a bullet stuck inside it. She quickly faded away with pains she would not ever imagine having to feel. The red man saw the shock, yet acceptance of her death, over her daughter’s, and respected that. Yet, he still wanted to see if everything was correct. The hammer was once again lifted, and then smashed, into the girl’s pretty head. The cracking sound it made when the large chunk of metal collided with her skull and pierced the brain was amazing for the ears of the red man. The shock and screams of the father further fueled the suited fellow’s imagination of having to understand a person’s mind. It made him feel whole, made him feel like he was right about the universe, and how it operated. Mark however was hysterical and couldn’t believe the things he was seeing. Not only did his wife just die, but also his little girl was killed brutally. His clothes were covered in her brain, blood, and parts of the skull. Where her head once beautifully graced everyone was now a bloodied old hammer, fractured into her body like a sight from an old medieval movie. -What did you do? – Only managed to ask the tied man, - What did you do? – His voice got higher and higher each time he asked him that, - What did you do? What did you do? What did you do? The red man wiped his hands and smirked at the man. That was all he needed, nothing more, nothing less. The experiment was a success. Now he only needed live footage of the process, and all would be considered a huge development into the matter of pain and breaking a person’s existence. -What did you do? What did you do? What did you do? – continued asking Mark, not being able to say anything more. His heart was crying, so was his brain. The only thing he could do was watch the outcome of his actions. The only thing he could do…was cry. -What did you do? What did you do? What did you do? The red man walked besides the two bodies and waved goodbye to Mark, who was still asking the same thing repeatedly. -What did you do? What did you do? – He asked over and over again. Once out of the small basement, the climbed the stairs up and left the small wreck. His head was now covered in a red hat. A full red coating, for a red devil as he was. Smirking, he walked towards his brand new “Range Rover” and once again managed to hear the haunting gurgled scream of the same question “WHAT DID YOU DOOOOO!?” The man now laughed and started the engine. -Nothing personal…only for entertainment – he whispered and sped off, leaving the cries of a defeated man to echo in the vast nothingness in the middle of nowhere.
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AuthorHello, this is Nedyalko Delchev, or Black Wing. I’m a writer and currently 25-years old. One of my dreams is to publish a book and impact the world! Until then, I will be posting all kind of contend on my Story Book! Archives
September 2023
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