He shook his head as he closed the laptop and stood up. “You don’t need that relic to be a writer, Ivy. You can use the computer downstairs.” He walked around the desk and wrapped an arm around his daughter. “And if you decide you really like writing, I’ll buy you your very own laptop.”
She looked up at her father and grinned. “Really?”
“Really, pumpkin.” he told her as he led her towards the door. “Now, let’s go downstairs and see what your mother’s making for dinner.”
She let he father lead her out of the room, before glancing back at the silent back keys shimmering in the light.
***
Ivy tiptoed silently down the hall, taking the cold doorknob in her hand. Glancing around her, she opened her father’s office door, quickly slipping in. Reaching blindly, her fingers collided with the plastic switch and the room was bathed in florescent light once again.
She glanced around the room, her eyes instantly falling on the display case. All evening her mind kept wandering back to the archaic machine. Why it fascinated her so much, she had no clue. All she could think of was how wonderful her words would look on a sheet of paper from that typewriter.
She slipped across the room to where the display case rested on a table against the far wall. Her hands slid along the glass as she peered adoringly inside. She wanted to be a real writer like her father so badly. If this was what started his career, it could start hers as well.
Ivy carefully lifted the glass box from the typewriter, setting it to the side. Holding her breath in awe, she brushed her fingers over the sparkly black keys. How exquisite it seemed compared to the everyday computers which filled the world. She could definitely see herself writing the next great novel with this machine. This was the romance of being an author.
She looked down at the paper still in the paper guide. Curiously, she pried up the paper release and pulled the paper towards her, taking in the words on it. It must be the last thing her father wrote on it. Her eyes fluttered over it, her lips turning down in a frown as she read it.
I will be a famous writer. I will have a wonderful wife who loves me and a beautiful daughter named, Ivy. I will be happy and have everything I ever wanted. My life will be good.
Ivy stared at the words. Why would her father leave something like this in the typewriter? Her eyes drifted over the words again, when suddenly they slowly began to fade. Lighter and lighter the ink became until it disappeared completely. She gasped in shock, letting the paper fall to the floor.
She glanced around her nervously. How had that happened? Words didn’t just disappear like that. She stepped back, away from the table and the display case. Something wasn’t right with that typewriter.
Ivy turned towards the door, opening it as she heard her father cry out.
“What did you do, Ivy?” his voice carried down the hall. “What did you do?”
She shook her head as tears formed in her eyes. How could she have known? Things like that weren’t possible. She wanted to scream, to cry out how sorry she was. But she stayed silent as she watched herself fade from reality.
A Token of His Affection
The creature silently passed through the hole in the fence making its way towards the farmhouse. Darkness surrounded it, coating it in a second skin. It had a message to deliver and its master would help it as much as he could.
Avoiding the moonlight, it moved across the yard and up onto the back porch. Its nose twitched in the air as it checked to see if he was inside. The boy was indeed. It could sense each beat of his heart as if he was standing right there.
Following the porch around the side of the house, it searched for a suitable crack. It found a broken window hidden beyond a tree at the end of the house. The hole was tiny, but just perfect for it to gain entrance. Scurrying up the wall it slipped in, thinning like the darkness around it.
Emerging into the house, it twitched its nose again. Reaching out with its senses, it checked to see if anyone else in the home was up. It grunted softly in delight. The only soul still awake was the one he was about to corrupt. There would be no interference tonight.
It moved quickly, its furry brown paws moving in a blur. Reaching the boy’s room, it pushed its weight against the door, opening it wider.
“Mom?” the boy called, his voice sounded timid in the stillness around them.
The creature moved forward, jumping up on the end of the bed.
The boy squeaked and reached out for the lamp next to him. “Who’s there?”
“It’s okay, Ralphie. I’m a friend.”
The boy switched the lamp on, bathing the room in light, gasping at the sight before him.
The creature stood on the end of the bed on all fours, its heavy brown fur matted and dirty. Its face was a different story. Completely devoid of any fur, smooth pink flesh held two eyes, a nose and a mouth. This wasn’t a face anyone would expect on a raccoon-like creature. It was a human face.
The boy sucked in air to scream but no sound came out. All he could do was stare in terror at the unnatural thing in his bed.
“Don’t be frightened,” the thing cooed in a voice like glass stuck in a garbage disposal. “I’m here to help you.”
The boy sat there, mesmerized by its words. He knew he should run to his parents, he wanted to, but he couldn’t make himself move. “Help me how?” he managed to whisper.
“You are a special boy. You will grow up to be one of His. I’m here to get you started.”
The boy stared in silence. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing.
The creature moved closer, light reflecting brightly in its milky eyes. “You will be a shining example of chaos. Destruction will reign down where you walk,” it whispered. “You will spread sadness throughout this land.”
“But…” the boy whispered back. “How do you know this?”
“I have seen your soul,” it hissed, coming to stand right before him. “It is as black as the God who chose you.”
The boy looked down at his new furry friend. It was starting to all make sense now. He knew he wasn’t like other kids. The things he did while no one was looking, they were just who he was.
Raising a paw, the creature placed it against the boy’s hand. “I am a Token and I deliver this message from the Old One who claims you.”
The boy felt a surge of power course through him. Traveling up his arm, it seemed to engulf his very core.
“Be who you were meant to be,” the Token spoke. “Live in his name.”
The boy felt himself nod as the creature pulled away from him. “I will,” he replied huskily, as if all the moisture had been drained from his mouth. “I’ll follow my true nature for you.” His mouth slowly turned up in a twisted grin. “And for my new Lord. May the world suffer in His name.”
The creature turned and jumped down from the bed, leaving the boy to his dark thoughts. Running quickly through the house, it slipped back outside as quiet as the night around him. It had more work to do for his master, more people to anoint. It grinned as it went, exposing rows of needle-sharp teeth. How it loved delivering messages.
Go West, My Son
The midday Texan sun shone down on him as he stood along Interstate 10 staring at the barren landscape around him. Nothing moved. He supposed the heat was too much for any kind of activity. He wouldn’t know. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel much of anything anymore.
Pulling the long duster he wore closer to his body, he ducked the bill of his cap lower on his forehead. These things would keep people from looking at him too closely. He wasn’t ready for them to see what he really was. Not yet. That time would come soon enough.
He walked forward, knocking the dust from his boots. He had to go West. The convergence would soon happen. They would gather on the coast and show themselves for the first time. The world would then know exactly what it was in for. The Apocalypse would start in earnest.
He walked on, waving at a car that sped by. He grinned at the thought of how
the driver would react to him if he really knew. He longed for the fear that would fill the air. It’s what his kind thrived on. That and sustenance. Those were the only things that truly mattered. The rest was just ensuring they would get them, but it would be a blast getting there.
He pulled the duster tighter around his damaged body, keeping his wounds hidden within. People thought his kind was stupid, acting only on instinct alone. He had orders and he would follow them all perfectly. They all would. They would show the world there was nothing slow about them. His kind was the perfect killing machine.
He smiled as he pushed forward, heading to the West where he belonged. His brethren waited there. Together they would overthrow the world. They would conquer it in no time because zombies could do more than just eat.
Hands of Time
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The sound seemed to echo through the dark room like machinegun fire.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Opening his eyes, Drew glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Midnight. He had only been asleep for an hour.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Drew looked around the room. What was making that noise? Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up and turned on the lamp next to his bed.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The sharp noise continued around him, even as light bathed the room. This was the fourth night in a row the sound had woke him. He was beginning to wonder if someone was playing a joke on him.
Rising from the bed, Drew looked around the room as he had done every night before, his eyes scanning over the things he surrounded himself with. Every time he thought he was close to finding the source of the ticking, the sound seemed to shift to another spot. Why didn’t it stay in the same place?
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The sound continued moving around the room, staying constant in its intensity. Shuddering, Drew stood there helpless. The sound was driving him crazy. He was sure of it. Was this the purpose the ticking served? To turn him into a shell of a man, haunted by the night?
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Slowly he slipped back into bed. He had to ignore it. There was no other choice. Turning on the TV, he thumbed up the volume. The voices emitting from the flat screen coated the room, drowning out the horrible ticking sound.
Drew sighed in relief. The ticking might still be there, but if he couldn’t hear it, it didn’t matter. Closing his eyes, he let sleep claim him once more.
***
The Overseers stared at the clock before them. Time was winding down. The world had reached its end days. Something had to be done. Where was the Champion? Didn’t he hear the calling? Didn’t he know time was fleeting before them, ticking away until there was nothing left?
They stood there silently, watching the hands of time move forward, praying their Champion would answer the call before it was too late.
Misunderstood
I never wanted to go in that building again. Never. Even if Hell froze over, I still wouldn’t set foot in that damned place.
Some places become tainted over time. Murders, suicides, deaths. They all take their toll on the world around us. When a person dies, the environment soaks it up, like a Polaroid reaching for the light. It leaves an imprint; one that can never be erased.
I wish I could say that is what happened to this place. It would make this world seem gentler if we could identify why this ground is what it is, but we can’t. Some places, like people, don’t need a reason. They are what they are, and have been since the day they came into being.
This building was one of those. A deviated blight on our reality. Pure evil flowed through every particle of the place. No one can even tell you how old the building is. Some say its been here for hundreds of years. Others say its been here since the beginning of time, in one form or another.
I didn’t know any of this. I just knew it was an old creepy building some kids dared the new kid to spend the night in. That would be me; the new kid. I don’t know if you know what it’s like to be the new kid, but let me tell you, it’s awful. No friends, no place to fit in. Isolated and alone. Everyone judging you on whether or not you might be worth the effort.
That’s why I took this dare. I figured if I could prove myself a badass right away, this new school thing would be a cakewalk. I walked into that building as groups of kids stood around, with my head held high. There was no way I would let this place intimidate me.
Boy, was I mistaken. How I honestly survived the night is beyond me. I withdrew in on myself. The whispering walls and the shapes which slithered around my curled up body were too much for me. I left that place in the morning, a mere shade of what I had been.
I had gained the respect of the school, but I couldn’t care less. All I knew was the small sliver of sanity left in me never wanted to set foot near that place again. I wanted to get as far away from it as I could. I begged and pleaded until my family caved. They moved me across the country, but even that wasn’t far enough for me.
Like I said, I changed because of that place. I had never been a goody-two-shoes or anything, but after that, in my more coherent moments, there was a darkness writhing in me. I scared people. They could feel the wrongness pouring off me. My parents tried to explain to people I was different. I was misunderstood.
I realize now that I was misunderstood. I still am to this day. I realized something else, too. The place I had feared so much when I was younger, it was only a misunderstanding that kept me from seeing its true potential.
That’s why I’ve come back. I bought that old building and everything in it. I am now the Keeper, living there with all its many secrets.
There was a time I thought I knew what was right and wrong. There was also a time when I didn’t want to set a foot in this place again. I use to say never. Not anymore.
Coastal Offerings
Neil walked along the beach, his sandaled feet sinking deep into the sand around him. He marveled at the warmth as the sun caressed his cheeks, leaving behind it playful touch. This feeling, right here, was pure bliss. He had never seen the ocean before and it was living up to everything he’d ever dreamed. He smiled contently as he watched the gulls playing in the surf.
Yes, this was what he had always been searching for. It was time for a change. He would leave behind his old life and move out here; find a nice place right on the beach and live happily-ever-after. This was the place his soul longed to be, not rotting away in the country, lost among the corn.
He inhaled deeply, the astringent sea air tickled his nose as he took in everything around him. A man could die happy right here.
He moved on, his sandals slapping sand as he ventured farther along the beach. He wanted to see everything this coastal paradise offered him. Everything that would be his once he started anew.
He stopped short when he noticed a campfire up ahead of him. A group of people sat around it, basking in the warmth of the flames.
Neil frowned slightly, glancing up at the bright blue sky. It had to be at least 85 degrees out here. Why did they need a fire? He watched them a moment longer. They seemed to be enjoying the flames dancing in front of them. Who was he to judge what might be a common practice on the coast?
The smile once again found his lips as he stepped forward, eager to see what a campfire at the beach entailed. He moved quickly as he watched them huddle around the fire. Maybe they would let him join them. He’d love to have actual friends here before he moved.
“Hello,” Neil called out to them as he approached their makeshift ring. “Do you guys mind if I join you?”
The heads quickly turned and stared in his direction. Or they would have, if they had had eyes.
He stopped dead in his tracks as his mouth kept opening and closing; as if it wanted to say something but couldn’t find a voice. His mind just couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. None of these people had any faces. It was simply pale flesh pulled taunt against the front of their heads. It was as if they were blank canvases wait
ing for the artist to arrive.
Neil stared into the blankness before his eyes and began to tremble. Whatever these things were, it wasn’t something he wanted to mess with. He realized quickly that he shouldn’t be standing here. This was a dangerous place. One full of secrets and darkness.
He turned quickly, fleeing back up the beach as fast as his sandals would carry him. He was no longer enchanted by what the coast had to offer. He was certainly better off among the corn.
Intrusion
Ray’s eyes snapped open as he lay there, listening to the night around him. What had woken him? Nothing moved or stirred. He blinked slowly as sleep began to pull him down once again.
He was almost back in a peaceful slumber when a loud thump shook the room. Straightening up, his eyes scanned the darkness quickly. Something had definitely pulled him from sleep this time.
Another thump sounded. It was coming from all around him. Freeing his legs from the blankets, he stood quickly, reaching for the pair of jeans he left laying nearby. As he slipped a leg in, three more quick thumps seemed to shake the walls around him.
Sliding the jeans all the way up, zipping them with a grunt, he scrambled for the bedroom door. What was going on out there? He raced out of the room and into the dark living room. Light trickled in from the streetlight through the blind slats. It penetrated the darkness like blades, illuminating the room well enough.
Nothing loomed in front of him. He was alone in his living room, wiping the sleep from his eyes. The silence which pressed in on his eardrums was almost deafening. It loomed down on him, bringing him back to reality. There was nothing wrong.
Running a hand through his hair, he looked around, squinting at the empty room. He must have been dreaming. He let out the breath which seemed to be caught in his chest. What an idiot. He had fallen for a dream.
Restless Highways Page 4
