Ardenla

A cold snowflake greets the warm skin of my face, melting immediately.

I ignore the sensation and look forward instead, just like the rest of my group.

“Holy shit! The legends did have some truth in them!” Jess yells over the howling wind.

David shakes his head: “I’ve been telling you this a thousand times! This is the whole reason for this expedition.” He can’t contain his excitement.

I look at the snow-covered ruins.

The ice must have caused the whole city to have been frozen in time, so research should go smoothly.

I can hear my group rejoice.

I know I should too, but something about it is off…

Something about it makes my thoughts and words jumble together in a way I’ve never had happen before.

The buildings… They’re familiar to me…

My head fills itself with shapes and colours, not known, no… I do know…

“I’m sorry ma’am, it doesn’t seem like your child will remember.”

I’m at the doctors’ and my mother embraces me tightly: “Oh no…” She whispers in a worried tone.

Every word spoken are the things I worried about, but also already knew the answer to.

I’m not like the people here.

Not like my mother.

Not like my friends.

Not even like my neighbour.

I’m an anomaly.

Perhaps disabled even in a world like this.

There’s something everyone here but me has, something that makes my life so much more difficult.

I don’t remember my past life.

For centuries this city has survived this way.

Mistakes are something only made by the children who don’t remember and I guess me, an adult without memories.

There are no wars, no fights, just peaceful life in which everyone remembers and doesn’t have to learn anything anymore. The people are almost all knowing, having at times completely specialised at one thing or had enough time to try everything.

I guess the chances of me getting a proper job is almost zero now… And I already struggled to keep up with school.

Why? Just why me of all people?!

I try so hard to fit in, but I’m always on the outside, never able to be a part of anything.

The last bit of hope has melted and dried.

In complete silence we all leave the bright white building behind, I wave my mother goodbye and head towards my friend's house. Honestly I don’t really feel up to it, but I promised.

“How did it go?” My friend asks, without putting down the book he’s reading.

I can’t help but sigh.

Rudy finally looks up: “That doesn’t sound good.”

I shake my head: “Nope. I don’t think I will ever remember.”

“Damn…”

“Yeah, say that. I tried everything, hypnosis, medical observations, operations…”

He puts down his book and walks over to me, I already know what that look on his face means.

I wave my arm: “I know, I know, you’re just going to repeat that again.”

Still he continues: “What if it’s a good thing, this city could use newer people, newer ideas, newer souls.”

I shake my head: “No! You know no one needs that here. New is dangerous! I’ll never be accepted.”

“Ennis, you’re going to be fine.” He puts a hand on my shoulder, but I push it away.

“You just don’t get it!”

I remember the day when he got his memories. I used to be friends with him before that time. When I first met him he was very outgoing and we would often play sports together, but then one day he turned completely quiet and suddenly knew everything. He had been a scholar in his past life and had started remembering.

Part of me was horrified by the transformation, but another part was so terribly jealous.

Due to his change, he lost most of his friends, all except me. Deep down he should still be that kid after all, he still cares for me and we still do things together, just not sports anymore.

We couldn’t go to the same school afterwards, he soon went to a high university and got really busy. Still he made time to hang out with me.

After him my other friends would quickly change, but none as drastic as Rudy.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” I quickly respond.

Rudy smiles kindly “I know, would you still like to catch that lecture with me?”

“Yes, I do.”

After the lecture I get home tired.

There’s a girl much younger than me sitting on the couch knitting. Her hands are going fast and precise.

“Hi, grandma.” I wave at her.

“Ennis! Welcome back!” She smiles brightly: “I heard about it from your mother…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It’s really unfortunate.”

“I know.”

“So, you’ve really tried everything now, haven’t you?”

I nod, keeping back my tears.

There hasn’t been any news about anyone like me, so I really am alone.

The next morning I feel terrible just sitting inside, so I decide to go visit Rudy again.

“Hey, you busy?”

Rudy welcomes me inside his house: “I still have a couple of hours to go until I have work, so please come in.”

I drop myself onto the couch.

It really sucks, without memories I will be forced to continue living with my family.

“Hey, Rudy?”

“Yes?” He hands me a cup of tea.

“Do you think I might have been someone before?”

My friend shrugs: “It’s really not bad to not have a before.”

“Still, at the moment I would even be okay with finding out I was a wanted criminal in my past life.”

Rudy laughs: “Like Jasper? He still has twenty more years to go in jail for what he did three lives ago.”

“At least I wouldn’t be an anomaly then.”

“Ennis, you simply couldn’t have done something like that. You’re too kind, you’re a good person, with or without a past.”

“So what do you think is going to happen now?”

“You will remain your true authentic self.”

Ugh… why does he always have to be like that?

I get up.

“Leaving already?”

I nod: “Sorry, I need to take a walk or something. Thanks for the tea.”

Rudy stands up and slowly walks me to the door, but just before he stops me.

“Ennis… It’s out now, the knowledge of you. Many people know.”

“Yeah, obviously.” I try to joke, but my friends' eyes look strange. Is that… fear?

“No, take this seriously. You will have to be much, much more careful from now on. Don’t trust others blindly and remain yourself.”

I’m a little startled by his sudden change in attitude and can’t seem to form a proper answer.

“Promise me that you will be careful.” I’ve never heard his voice sounding this stern.

“Promise me!” He half whispers and half yells.

“Yes, I promise.” I quickly answer, luckily it seems to calm him down a little and he finally allows me to leave.

He then presses a small knife into my hands, but doesn’t allow me to ask any questions: “Please, visit me again sometime.”

“I always do.”

“You better.”

I turn my back to him and take a walk through the city centre.

Past the stores much, much older than I will ever be.

Everyone is taking their time, a time I never had and never will have.

There’s a group of kids passing by, all dressed in uniform and acting all proper. It’s almost like people start remembering earlier every year.

Why couldn’t I be one of them?

To them, what am I?

An alien?

No… I guess an insect, especially one who doesn’t live as long.

I’ve gotten used to stares, especially from people I know and who know about me.

I spot an elderly man call a child ‘mother’ and a teen so skilled in painting it must have taken centuries to master.

Finally I stop and take a seat by the fountain.

The sound of running water calms me down.

Two men dressed like bouncers or perhaps bodyguards approach me.

Did I do something wrong?

“Are you Ennis?”

I’ve never gotten into too much trouble before. Yes, I’ve done dumb things as a child, but nothing illegal.

“Ah, yes, that’s me… Is something wrong?”

“You’ve been requested to visit the major.”

Me? I guess as an anomaly…

They take me to a black car and allow me to sit in the back.

I know better than to question the reason, but I’m really worried for some reason.

We drive towards the tallest building and we take the elevator to the top.

The two guards open the doors to the main office.

Not many people see this place from the inside, even when they live multiple lives.

“Good day.” An adolescence slightly younger than me greets me, signalling that I can take a seat opposite to him.

“G-good day…” I feel a hint of jealousy by his maturity. The man before me feels ageless.

“So, you’re Ennis.”

“Yes, that’s me.” I try to look brave, I bet he’s already read me completely.

“Don’t worry, you did nothing wrong.”

“Then why was I taken here?”

“I simply wanted to meet you.”

Meet me?

“I heard about you being unable to recall any past life.”

“That’s true.”

What am I? An animal in the zoo?

“You also know that it is quite dangerous to keep you here this way.”

I look away from his piercing gaze: “I know.”

“Do you want to remain this way?”

I shake my head in frustration: “No, of course not. I can’t work, I can’t buy a house and I can’t even finish school.”

He stands up: “Good, I think I can help you jog your memory.”

Something in his monotone voice makes me feel cold.

“Sir, I have already tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t. There’s still one way, but please promise me that you will keep this between the two of us.”

There is a way? Not just false hope again?

“Please, come with me.”

I follow him into another room.

It’s dark.

A light turns on, showing only a single chair.

“Take a seat.” He bows his head a little.

Vigilant I make my way towards the piece of furniture.

Wait… are those… leather straps?

I feel nauseous and hesitant.

Just what have I gotten myself into?

“Please, sit.”

I take a step away: “You know, maybe I-” but I’m not allowed to continue as I’m hit from behind.

I fall down onto my knees and the world turns dark.

My head hurts like hell.

I immediately open my eyes only to find myself strapped to the chair.

The room is now fully lit.

It’s filled with computers.

My heart beats in my throat…

Is this the secret…?

I look at some of the screens and see the truth before me.

My frozen hands have started tingling.

“Y-you…” I try to speak, but the words won’t come out. I wildly shake my head, this… please don’t let this be true…

“Ennis, are you scared?” The major smiles at me: “You should have known. This is the only way to make you better. Inserting a new brain implant… they would be grateful for your sacrifice.”

Shitshitshitshitshitshit!!!

The major approaches me with something that looks like a gun with a huge needle.

Right, the knife!

I try to get myself loose, but it’s all too tight. My hands are even turning red.

I curse loudly and the major just looks annoyed.

Suddenly the door opens.

My captor looks behind him: “Oh hello professor, what can I help you with. I am a bit busy.”

Someone steps into the light, someone I know really well.

Rudy.

…

“I assume you won’t let me do this?”

The major smirks: “No, I know you two are friends. And I also know that you are very loyal to those. After all, I've known you for centuries.”

A smile appears on my friend’s (?) face: “You know me too well.”

Then without another warning he pulls a gun and shoots the major point blank.

Blood and brains gush over the floor.

“Rudy?”

The face of the man who’s name I’m calling turns serious and he rushes towards me: “You have to get out of here!” He takes the knife out of my pocket and starts cutting the straps: “If you think he’s the only leader here trying to corrupt every new generation, you’re far from wrong!”

“So, it’s true?” I ask, meaning a lot more… this means… that everyone is dead.

When they ‘remember’, their original self gets wiped in order to fit the new person.

“I’m sorry Ennis.” He avoids my gaze.

“How did it come to this?”

This means Rudy too is dead.

This person before me is not that once sociable and sporty kid.

But, I do believe that he is my friend, whoever he might be.

I don’t get a response to my question.

I’m loose and immediately I get out of the chair.

“Now, run!” He orders and I run towards the doorway, but soldiers have already gathered there.

“Open fire!”

I can’t react fast enough, but my friend is and shields me.

There’s so much blood.

Is it mine?

Is it his?

Is it the majors?

I don’t know what happened, but I’m up and running again.

My hands brush over a computer, the most important looking one and I throw it.

It breaks.

Shatters into a thousand pieces, almost as if it was made out of glass.

One by one the soldiers look as if they're having a shared headache.

Then there’s a loud ‘Plop’.

Someone’s head just exploded.

The others follow soon.

All falling lifelessly to the ground.

For a moment I just stare at the bizarre sight.

Then I too start feeling a growing pain in my head.

Why?! Why did all of that have to happen?! Why did they kill them all? Did I really have to end it completely?

“Hey, you okay?” Jess takes me out of my reminiscing: “You’ve been silent for a very long time.” Looking around I find myself back in the cold, in the present, about 5 centuries after all that happened in that city.

Those machines should never be remade.

I have to make sure.

 My friends and I have a hideout, hidden away from all the annoying adults in our lives.

It’s a secret place only we know of and it’s really well hidden!

There are days we come here and days we don’t come here, because we really don’t want our parents to know.

It’s a small, low hut in the middle of the woods close by.

None of us knows who built it, but it has been sitting empty for a long time. Nikki said that it might have been a bunker at some point in time, she says she saw it in a book, but she also still believes in the tooth fairy. So really there is no way of knowing and it’s ours now.

It’s our hideout and we play whatever we want there, we’ve even taken some old junk we found and made it more homey.

I remember it like yesterday, when we went around looking for things to put inside.

There’s a big wooden box we use as a table. We usually sit on the floor, but when it gets colder we use mats or whatever else we can find. Matt has claimed an ancient looking wooden, toy car as his seat. Though he will probably soon outgrow it.

It was Nikki who found an old flashlight we use as our lightsource, since the inside can be pretty dark.

In our hideout we play many things, like that we’re superheroes or spies.

Cayden is the leader. Unlike some other kids he is a really good one, he’s nice and always listens to others around him, so we gave him his role, he didn’t have a say in it.

It truly is a great place to escape to after a long and boring day at school or a tiring weekend meant to spend at birthday parties of people I don’t even know that well.

One of our other members, Lotti, likes to bring food with her from time to time. In order to make sure she doesn’t have to use her allowance for everything, the others and I bring things as well.

Then again, usually when playing we don’t eat a lot, we almost don’t have time for it. We have people to save you know!

Today the weather is rainy, but we still decided to go.

But something was off when we got there.

I don’t know what it is, but something seems to have been moved.

There’s this strange feeling in my chest… Like someone had found out about our secret safe space.

We get closer to the doorway and notice that there’s light coming from inside.

“Cayden, did you forget the light yesterday?” I ask, recalling our rule of the leader double checking everything.

“No, it was off.” He shakes his head, flinging drops of rain away from his drenched hair. “Nikki?” But she too shakes her head: “It was off I’m sure, let’s go inside or else we will catch a cold.”

We all listen and enter.

Something else is amiss…

A shadow.

A long, tall shadow.

One more than could belong to someone in our group.

I stop and look around.

Then I see it.

My body turns colder than it already was.

There’s someone in our hideout.

Someone uninvited.

An adult.

The others notice my silence and look for what silenced me.

Finding it, they also stop speaking and huddle together.

Before us on the cold floor sits a woman, long coloured hair covering her face.

She doesn’t move.

Is she watching us?

Is she readying herself to attack us?

Cayden is the first to move: “Everyone, run!”

I told you he is the leader type.

We all immediately get out, back in the gushing rain, with our leader being last to follow.

My house is the closest by, so I suggest we go there.

On our quick way towards my house we keep an eye out for one another, making sure we’re not leaving someone behind and making sure that we’re not being chased.

I knock on the door and we’re all let inside.

My mother seems worried, but we’re not sure if we should tell her. When she’s left the room it’s Lotti who first speaks up: “If we tell them we’re going to be in trouble.”

“You think?” Cayden whispers back.

“She could have been on drugs.” Matt points out.

The next day we return to the hideout and find the woman again, this time slightly moved to the side.

I gather my bravery.

“Ma’am?” I ask carefully.

No answer.

I take a step closer.

“Ma’am?”

Something seems to be moving underneath her hair.

But is that really a way for a face to move?

Carefully I brush her hair aside and immediately retreat my hand, almost leaping back.

Gross!!

Maggots.

Crawling and creeping all over the woman’s face.

Some of them fall onto the floor and my friends now notice too.

Cayden takes me back: “We need to get out of here, maybe even get adults involved.”

“But then our hideout will be discovered…” Matt tries, but Cayden starts yelling: “She’s dead! Do you want to stay here?!”

We’re all shocked. Our leader never yelled like this.

Lotti starts to cry softly and Nikki tries to console her, while taking her outside.

We all leave the place behind and get our parents who then in turn get the police.

But when the officers return to us they tell us that nothing was there. We even show them to the place, but… she isn’t there anymore.

Even the maggots have vanished.

I washed my hands thousands of times, but they never feel clean anymore.

At night I can’t sleep at all.

I turn and turn until I’m too scared to.

I wish I still had my nightlight.

There’s a tapping on my window.

I try my best to ignore it, but after a while I can’t anymore.

Slowly I get out of bed and walk towards the sound.

Opening my curtain…

[This is not a story about objects]

It’s that time again.

The time to clean up unwanted, unneeded things.

It’s not always fun, but not always that bad either.

With each object there are memories.

Those can be difficult to get rid of, though there are some simpler cases.

For example, simple candy wrappers are easily thrown away, while something like stuffed animals that have known and given warmth are more difficult.

I don’t like to admit it, but it does get easier eventually.

As long as you don’t get attached, as long as you don’t keep it too long around.

Today I’m cleaning out an old and forgotten cupboard.

Dust has gathered both inside as outside.

Carefully I reach inside the dark place and search until I feel something familiar.

I take out an old flashlight which once shone so bright in my darkest moments.

I press the button, but now it has nothing but a dull beam, almost indistinguishable from the dark itself.

Did I use it too much?

Could it not handle what I told it?

Or did time simply take it?

Why did you shine brighter than me?

Reaching for the next object I find a mirror.

It’s cracked.

I remember the day it reflected me perfectly, I never liked that about it, that’s why I left it here.

Now it shows even worse, showing multiple versions of myself, from which none I want to identify with.

I should have thrown this out ages ago.

You never understood me anyway.

Then there’s an old picture inside an even older frame.

One showing the past, but every time I look it turns worse.

Why show me this now? I ask it every time.

Truths that were meant to be hidden, truths I never wanted to acknowledge.

The past is in the past, but not in this picture.

It’s alive, it’s breathing, beckoning me inside it’s awful cold.

Why do you only see everything in a negative light?

Right, this is enough.

It all needs to go.

They keep on hurting me.

If I could I would have burned them, killed them, hurt them.

But they won’t let me.

So cutting them out completely is my only option.

As my eyes open, no light enters them.

It's dark.

The dark is comfortable to me, much more comfortable than when I'm able to see.

More comfortable than my nightmares even.

I sigh.

I guess it's time for another day.

Blindly I get out of bed and turn on the light.

Gosh, I wish I didn't.

It's way too bright.

I glance at my clock and look away, I got out of bed pretty late.

Those damned nightmares.

Well luckily I don't need to go to work or any other annoying appointments.

I walk to my small kitchen and get something to eat.

As I sit down for breakfast I can't help myself, but to think about the nightmare last night.

'I forgive you'

I find it difficult to breathe even thinking about it, I shake my head.

Get out.

Get out!

Please just leave me alone!

I pick up a magazine I left carelessly on the table yesterday and try to stop myself from thinking deeper.

It works and before I know it I'm busy making a difficult puzzle, so busy I even forget about my breakfast.

As I look up at the clock I notice that it's almost dinner time already.

Jeez, that goes fast.

Should I just go back to bed again?

I don't feel like eating anyway.

I know it's bad, but I decide to just return to bed.

I've given up, I know I will get that nightmare again anyway. Perhaps it's better to just accept it.

As I place my hand on the doorknob I suddenly freeze.

It feels abnormally cold.

Not just that, there is someone in my room.

I sense something moving.

Should I sleep in the kitchen tonight?

In the bathroom perhaps?

No, I shouldn't act so stupid.

If someone is here, I should probably just tell them.

What if it's a robber?

Maybe just ask them to leave... politely.

What if they have a gun?

Be even more polite and offer them tea....?

But what if it's something worse than a robber, what should I do then?

I hear something walking around in my room, footsteps that seem awfully familiar to me.

That's impossible.

That can't be true.

C' ome on, prove that it isn't what you think it is!

Quickly I swing open the door...

And before me...

Before me stands the one worse thing.

The worst person to stand before me is standing right there.

The one person I wished to never meet again.

The one person I wished to never speak to again.

My former friend.

He turns to me and smiles as he looks at me.

'I forgive you' The smile seems to say.

Scared, I take a step back.

"Good evening." My old friend says.

Should I be polite?

Should I send him away?

How did he even get in here in the first place?

"G-good..." But I can't finish, I can't breathe.

I drop to the floor as I gasp for air.

My former friend rushes over to me, his face filled with worry.

As he tries to embrace me, I push away his arms.

I can see him say my name, but I can't hear him.

I can see him trying to help me.

I can see him trying to calm me down.

But all is for naught as I'm consumed by darkness.

As I open my eyes I find myself back at my old high-school.

I'm at my desk.

The one I always sat at.

Everything seems to be wrong about this place.

The windows are the worst part of it as they seem to have been completely blacked out. Nothing is to be seen out of them, yet somehow sunlight does enter it.

The teacher in front of the class is explaining something.

I guess this is history.

In front of me sits my former friend, he turns to me and smiles.

I remember this day, we caused trouble and got sent to the principal's office.

We had been friends for as long as we could remember, yet it ended one day quite suddenly.

My former friend sticks out his tongue, I remember laughing because of his silly behavior, but today I despise it.

I hate him, I think I do.

I stand up from my seat.

I don't want to be here.

I want to leave.

I want to go back home.

My chair falls loudly on the old floor and the teacher turns around to look at me.

"Something the matter?" He asks, but something is wrong with him too.

His face.

Other classmates turn around too, they look at me, but their faces seem to have been messed up as well.

Perhaps it is better to say that their faces are warped or in some cases even gone completely.

Is it because I forgot?

Is it because I wanted to forget?

"If you're just going to keep standing there, you better just-"

I won't let him finish and rush to the door.

I have a bit of trouble opening it and my former friend walks over to me.

He stretches out a hand, but I slap it away.

"Leave me alone!" I yell at him.

His face turns to one of surprise, yet I ignore it.

The door suddenly opens and I fall through it, entering the darkness and falling much deeper than would be possible.

I hear someone calling my name.

"Wake up, are you okay?"

As I open my eyes, I see that I'm back at my apartment.

I'm back with my former friend, he doesn't look much different from back in high-school, unlike me, who couldn't have been any more different.

Quickly I get away from him.

I stop as a cold wall gently touches my back.

My former friend stops coming closer and instead sits down on the floor.

"Why are you trying to get away from me?" He asks in a worried tone.

Oh, how much I've come to hate that voice now.

"I'm only here to help you." He continues.

I press my shaking hands over my eyes so as to not see him.

"L-l-lea-a-ve... m-me a-a-alon-ne..." My voice trembled much more than I had wanted it to.

My former friend shakes his head: "Just what happened to make you like this? I'm not a monster you know."

I shake my head.

Finally able to speak a little bit more normal, I ask: "W-why are y-y-you here?"

Again he shows that awful smile: "To visit my dear friend of course, the guy that seems to have locked himself up, in his house... and in his heart."

"H-how did y-you get i-in?"

"You want to know?" His smile turns to one more sinister than before: "I walked through the wall."

Walked through the wall?

But how?

That might only be possible if he...

He does seem closer to the age he was when I last saw him, about ten years ago.

Did he... die? Back then?

Is that why he never contacted me again?

I stare at him: "Are you... dead?"

I hadn't thought about the question at all, it just tumbled out of my mouth without my permission.

A sad smile appears on the intruder's face: "Yes." He whispers: "I am long gone."

My head hurts, maybe it's because I haven't had anything to drink for a while. When was the last time I had a glass of water?

Is this my fault too?

Am I the cause of his death?

I look up at him again: "Is it... because of me...?"

But instead of giving me a straight answer he whispers those hated words: "I forgive you.".

My eyes feel heavy again and I sink away into another dark dream.

As light enters my world again, I look around and find a pencil in my hand.

Before me lies a piece of paper on which rough lines show a drawing that I made.

I'm in a living room.

The living room of my former friend.

Speaking of, he's sitting right in front of me, drawing as well.

Like the school, the windows have been completely blacked out.

My former friend looks up from his work and smiles at me: "What are you looking for?"

I feel my blood turn cold, but calmly answer: "Nothing."

His face turns serious: "If something is wrong, you can tell me. You know that right?"

He looks no older than 10, but at the moment I must look about the same age.

I remember this too, I'm in another messed up memory...

"Look, I draw us!" My former friend almost hits me in the face with the picture he has drawn.

I take it from him and look at it.

"It's us, we're fighting monsters together!"

I smile at him, perhaps a bit embarrassed and tell him that it's good, then I look in the corner, he has written out names in it, with 'best friends forever' underneath.

Liar.

I want to crumble it.

I want to rip it apart.

But somehow I can't, perhaps it's because I never did in the first place.

"What are you doing?" He asks giggling.

Tears well up in my eyes and my vision gets all blurry.

"Hey, I forgive you." His voice says in a strange tone.

You never said that. I conclude.

It isn't real.

As I wipe my tears I'm back in my apartment with my former friend, neither of us looking 10 anymore.

He has his arm stretched out to me to help me up, but I get up by myself.

I don't want to look at him.

I don't want to hear him.

I don't want him here.

I don't want to deal with this.

I walk over to the kitchen and to my dismay he keeps following me.

"Do you want me to send flowers to your mom or something?" I ask, making my former friend laugh.

"No you don't have to."

"But ghosts in movies usually want those who can see them to contact their families, right?"

"Dude, this isn't a movie."

I turn on my computer.

"I have a question for you." I say hesitantly.

"Yes?" My friend asks.

"When exactly did you die? And how? I can't find it anywhere..."

"You won't find it."

"What?"

I type his full name in the search engine.

As I scroll, I suddenly find something about him.

It's from just a couple of days ago.

He looks much older from the last time I saw him, he seems to have been working at some big-shot company.

The article says he got a promotion just last week.

I turn towards the ghost in my room.

"It says here that you got a promotion recently, if you aren't dead yet... then just who or what are you?"

My friend smiles at me, a sad smile, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Cold and coughing I finally make my way back from the cramped stone space that was the cave.

The time in which I drew pictures now seems very long ago.

The book... right... I should probably burn it.

I don't want anything to do with it anymore.

But... I know it's too late.

Have I become part of the story or has the story become a part of me?

I cannot concentrate any longer, the world of fantasy and horror is awaiting me, I can hear it call me gently by name, begging me to return to sweet ignorance.

With a loud thud I fall onto the familiar wooden floor and swiftly I close the book that had taken me inside.

In the dark I bind it shut, not caring about the damp ink inside.

It takes a while for me to finally calm down, my heart won't seem to quiet down.

Blindly I search for the candle I had dropped and light the small flame once again.

I really am back...

Am I... really?

Whilst remaining seated on the cold floor I unseal the book again and flip through the pages.

Brother.

Masked.

The confession.

The invitation.

Iris Coldon.

The traveler.

And finally the one hundredth.

All stories, all pages filled with darkness.

I skipped many and drawings have appeared. I was sure I never drew at all.

I stop to stare at the last I'm holding open right now.

Another story which is calling me.

Another story which is unnatural.

Another story awaiting me to join it's world of horrors.

Without thinking I reach for the drawing on the page, my hand disappears right into it again. Just like what happened with the fifth.

I guess all of this was a story all along.

There are eyes in the dark.

Not glowing.

But they're there, I'm certain.

I feel something looking at me.

Finally my eyes register who it is and I start to speak:

"I hadn't noticed that it was you, but I have always known you were here."

Once again I close the book and hold it close to my chest. I don't want anything getting out or getting in.

"Without knowing, you, dear reader, have become part of the story or stories as well."

"Since you came to this, you most likely have read some or all of the one hundred."

I try my best to explain.

"In your mind you have shaped these worlds, these stories.

I mean, what do the characters look like? You know, because these stories have been played in your mind.

But the way you know these characters no one else does.

The same goes for the locations, did you see them?

Look, even this drawing I made of the one of the cave is one decided by you. I didn't draw it. You did. You did all that in your mind.

Did you give voices to me and the others too? Have they all been different or have many been the same?"

I sigh, making sure the book will never open again. You of all people shouldn't be lost in its darkness, but I know that it's futile.

You have your own after all, one that doesn't much look like a book, but still shows its many damned words.

"You're too late, you could have left, but you didn't."

Before I know it I'm yelling.

"Flee if you can, close the book! If you want a chance at escape! Don't look! Don't read!"

"Leave!"

"Don't come back!"

"Run for your life!"

But it's all for naught it seems.

"You didn't leave?"

Once again I sigh deeply, sounding more depressed than the previous one.

Slowly I sit back down: "Well then I guess we're both in it together."

"I guess the stories have changed us both, huh...

Thank you for being here."

Once, very, very long ago there was a traveler.

His travels reached so far and wide, he had touched each edge of the world.

His eyes had witnessed the beauty of nature.

He had felt the warmth of the friendliest and kindest people.

And yet, it all appeared not enough, for he would never stay anywhere for long.

Village after village.

Forest after forest.

From one strange unknown to the other.

It was as if he was searching for something, restlessly pursuing.

Or perhaps it was not searching at all.

Could it have been fleeting from something?

The man was a master in travelling and of course always had a story to tell the kind people who would let him stay a night.

Because of his vast knowledge, sometimes his caretakers wouldn’t even charge him a dime.

Everyone seemed to know him, but no one remembered his name.

Though there is one story.

Only one, which people sometimes still whisper.

Something more akin to a ghost story, something one tells to strike fear in another.

A story unlike heard before about this lonely traveller.

This story is about how this traveller became the guest of a certain small village he passed by.

Supposedly the final in his long journey to the unknown.

It was late when he arrived.

The sky was dark and gloomy.

In the air you could smell the soon to approach rain.

The traveler knew he needed a roof over his head soon and a bed to warm his weary body.

As he arrived, the lady of the land was the first to greet him personally, something she always did whenever a stranger would cross the border.

She was a woman whom liked to know about the goings-on of the outside. Curiosity was one of the things that made her beloved, always ready to lend a listening ear to anyone.

At the time this took place, she was already quite old. Her hair had turned white and her face wrinkled.

She had learned the ways of nature and fortune, the people loved her as much as she loved them. Not as a saint, but more like the village’s grandmother.

“Dear traveler.” She spoke when she met the weary fellow, her eyes scanned every inch of him: “I’ve heard of you haven’t I? The goalless traveller?”

The man smiled tiredly: “I guess that is what they call me, but I actually am with a goal.”

As if already knowing the answer, the lady answered the question on her mind, while slowly nodding her head: “So you are returning home?”

“For me home is the journey, but yes, I am returning to my place of birth.”

A cold breeze made the man clutch his coat a little tighter, to which the village grandmother smiled and took him to the local inn.

Like many of the stories the traveller was allowed to stay for the price of his stories while he warmed by the fireplace.

He was given a warm bed and fell asleep listening to the raindrops tapping the window.

The next day the village children would not stop bugging him for stories and he told as many as he could.

When he finally had created a break, by giving the children some of the souvenirs he had been carrying, the adults of the village came to him.

“So, dear traveler, where is it you’re going to?”

The traveler smiled, but as he gave away the name of his village he was greeted by a cold silence.

That name…

That place he spoke of…

Was no longer in existence.

The innkeeper stammered: “Wasn’t that the one that burned down years ago?”

That could not be the truth!

The traveller could not accept it, wildly he shook his head: “T-that’s impossible!”

“I’m sorry to say this, but a terrible accident had taken place there from what I heard, most of the folks have long since passed. I recommend you to stay away from it. That place has nothing good to offer anyone anymore.”

With those words spoken the traveller felt lost.

All that travelling, all that seeing the world.

Only to never be able to return home.

He stood for a moment, still, wordless.

Then, without even taking the little he had, he left.

Ignoring that the end of day was nearing.

Ignoring the people trying to sway him to remain with them.

He ignored it all.

As fast as his tired feet would take him, he made his way to what was once his home.

It wasn’t that far away and vague memories led him back to the place he had last been as a mere child.

A strange numbing feeling overcame him when he finally reached the old, overgrown ruins, looking like it had always been standing there like that.

And yet there were fragments of memories in his head about the place.

Where he would play as a little boy.

Where he would learn.

Where his family lived.

Where he went to church.

The last place was the largest, most well preserved of the ruins.

All the coloured glass had long been shattered, the benches rotted away and the candles in small puddles never to be lighted again.

It was clear no one had come here after.

There were no bodies, yet there were clear signs of terrible violence.

Most of the village buildings had been eaten by the fire and others had been taken over by nature.  

Suddenly the traveller started hearing soft voices whisper his name.

They were becoming him, inviting him to enter the darker part of the building where a part of the roof was still covering.

That had been where the altar stood.

Slowly he made his way closer, caution taken with every step.

There, on the decaying stairs was an old book.

A strange object, more well-kept than anything else.

As if someone had placed it there just a moment ago.

The traveller picked it up and opened it.

The strangest combinations of words were written there.

It seemed to be a diary, the last entry being from the day before the fire.

It seemed to tell a story about a child.

And a curse.

An evil, eating away curse.

Something which would cause the cursed to hurt those around them.

Especially the innocent.

The traveler couldn’t stop reading and read it in one sitting.

Finally the name of the accursed had been written down in dark ink.

It was his own.

The reason the people were killed.

The reason his home had been burned to the ground.

It had all been him and him alone.

The man dropped the book, finally able to break away from the content.

Looking around the night had already long since started, yet the sky was too dark to see the stars.

Old painful memories started flooding back in, like a rock being thrown into a window, it all came back, the shards opening the scars on his fragile mind.

“Please rid me of this curse!” The traveller cried out, but the Gods did not listen.

Not a single star would dare look at him.

For his sins.

For his past.

For his running.

For his searching.

Finally there were footsteps and an old crooked voice killed the silence:

“You won’t be rid of it.” It was the old woman who finally answered: “You can’t.”

The traveller turned to look at her, his expression one of undeniable fright.

“You can’t get rid of it, because there never was a curse.”

Try not to think about it, try not to think about it.

I keep on telling this to myself, but it has long since stopped working, now I’m only trying to keep myself sane.

In this room it is just me and the small coffee table before me holding up a roughly cut slice.

It pretends to be cake, but I know better.

On it stands grounded, a single candle, the only thing lighting up just enough to show the small table with its tiny, dancing flame. 

The flame is doing that dance to annoy me, to provoke me into doing something I would not want.

Every time I breathe I can almost taste the sweet texture of crumbling dough and fruit melting on my tongue.

Every time I move even slightly I feel the warmth.

Inviting, trying to make me come closer.

Enticing me with sugary promises of relief.

Part of me wants to devour it in a single bite, to kill the hunger crippling my body, but I know it wouldn’t be able to do that.

Everything about this is just immoral, for I know what it really is.

No matter how hungry I am, I can't eat it.

I try to keep myself from looking, but as I try to look at the ceiling my eyes pass by the object.

My stomach grumbles and burns after the quick gaze, I feel like throwing up.

The thing.

I feel it looking at me, trying to use its fake sympathy on me.

The image it tries to create is too much like myself, first of all it’s alone. A piece of something while the rest is missing.

Honestly it has been going on much longer than today, but it is only now that I truly realise that something is wrong.

After a long day of work, I often like to scroll around a bit, just to see what I’ve missed.

Before the algorithm seemed perfectly fine, working the way it was supposed to, how it normally works for everyone else.

You click on something, others who watch that video often watch another as well and I get that recommended.

Of course nowadays that’s done with AI, making sure that the viewers keep viewing, human or not.

So one day I came by some true crime documentaries, you probably know what they’re like. It includes things like the interrogations and 911-calls.

After I had seen a couple, the algorithm started recommending me camera footage as well.

And after that strange ARG-like videos, camera footage again.

I don’t know what it is, but I do find it interesting, you know those moments in which people are just people and don’t know they’re being watched. It’s a bit weird, but as someone who works at a place in which everyone seems to always wear an unbreakable mask, it’s nice to just see humans.

And then sometimes the occasional jumpscare, things like that don’t often seem to get me anymore. It’s all different from the movies nowadays and makes me feel like I’m the only one watching, which in some cases might be the truth.

Well enough about that, I’m nervous and keep changing the subject, that’s not good.

It started not that long after I came by a couple of different even more niche channels.

Found footage again, there was a lady in a store.

There was something off about her, she moved in a rather strange way, my first thought was that she was drunk or had to portray some scary creature.

She came closer and closer towards the corner the camera was located in, shuffling.

Then I noticed she was clutching her belly. It was difficult to see, since she wore mostly black, but she was hurt. Very badly hurt.

She looked straight at the camera and raised her hand towards it as if to ask for help.

The next day I was going for a stroll and found a local convenience store to have been closed down for the day.

Police tape was everywhere.

At first I just shrugged it off, it had nothing to do with me after all. Coincidences happen.

If I had just taken a peak, be a little more curious, I would have seen it…

I just continued my day, went to work and went back home.

That day I saw another video.

The inside of a house this time.

I still don’t know why people would want camera’s inside their homes, but these people did.

A family of four.

I felt terrible watching it all go down, I quit and decided to watch something else.

A child’s death that cruel is a bit too much even for me.

Kids and pets should not be harmed!

Still the sounds of the well-acted screams still remained ringing in my ears as I closed my eyes.

That was yesterday…

I found out where they lived, that family.

They lived just a couple of streets from me.

I tried to cheer myself up, to watch something happy or funny, but when I opened my account I found it flooded.

“Miss, who were you again?”

I hide my feelings as my mother scans me with her eyes as if I’m a complete stranger.

It’s been like this for a while now, but I still haven’t gotten used to it.

The strongest woman in my life, who stood by me since my birth, has now become akin to a scared child.

Every time it makes me want to cry and it won’t stop here, it is my time now to take care of my caretaker.

I remain seated with her for a bit, talking softly, making sure she’s feeling alright.

Then when time comes I finally leave, returning back to the world that does remember.

Since it’s time I drive over to work.

I enter the building and clock-in, greeting people on the way.

Melanie, a colleague, taps me on my shoulder.

“Hey, you know you can take time off if it’s too much.” The look on her face is one of worry.

Since I’ve told them about my mother’s condition they’ve gotten kinder and started trying to involve me more in positive things.

It’s nice that they go that far, but at the moment it annoys me a little as well.

“It’s fine, I already cut back on days, but I also need to have something else to concentrate on.”

She nods: “Just let someone know in time, before you know… you get burned out or something.”

“I will.”

We wish each other a nice day and I get to my desk, officially starting now.

The next day I start work earlier, but as I enter the building I get a strange unnerving feeling. Not sure what to make of it I try my best to shrug it off and move forward.

It’s during break when someone finally speaks to me.

“Hey… are you new here?”

I recognize the voice immediately and look up.

It’s Rita, one of my closest colleagues, I would even consider a good friend.

She’s standing next to me with a strange look in her eyes, something I have not seen in years.

Is she… trying to joke? She’s not the type though, maybe she couldn’t see me correctly from where she was sitting? Or maybe she’s in need of new glasses?

Not knowing how to react I just casually wave at her: “Hi Rita.”

But unlike how she normally acts, something about me has startled her a little.

“Have we… met before?”

So it’s not a joke? I feel my body turn cold.

All the times we went to get food together after long working hours, trips to the cinema and shopping…

Oh God… is she like mom?

“This is my sixth year working here, we have worked on a lot of projects together.”

I stand up from my seat and approach her: “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and then starts apologizing, even bowing a little: “Sorry, This is the first time I noticed you.”

Then she quickly scurries off, not going back to her desk, but heading elsewhere.

Just what is that about?

I try to return back to work normally, but I can’t seem to concentrate at all.

Not long after my boss walks over to me, with Rita following far behind.

Her eyes scan me from head to toe and back.

As if she’d never seen me before.

“Hi…” I greet.

My boss sits down next to me, putting down her laptop next to me.

“So… how long have you been working with us?”

“Six years already… time goes fast.” I try to joke, still secretly hoping that it really is a joke, but her face is serious.

She taps some of the buttons on the computer and finally her face turns to one of surprise.

“You’re… right…”

“Of course I am!” I try my best to not yell in frustration.

My boss rubs her face: “Then who hired you?”

“You did, you personally picked me after my internship.”

“I… did?”

I nod, can’t they just quit this interrogation now?

She should know.

I re-introduce myself trying to help her jog her memory, but nothing helps and I’m sent home.

Finally I return to my apartment.

At the door I find out that my key doesn’t seem to work anymore.

Did someone replace it?

There would be no reason to do so.

I guess I have to go for the universal key now… I look around, but don’t see something I can break the glass with.

Maybe through the mailbox?

Eventually I’m able to pry open the door, though it took a lot of energy.

I feel a sense of relief as I enter the familiar hallway, now just open the door and-

…

…

…

It’s empty.

Not even the dust or even the smells I have gotten so used to.

Someone didn't just move my stuff, they moved everything.

I’m on good terms with my landlord, always paying the rent on time…

Just what the heck happened?!

I wander through my living room, kitchen, bathroom and lastly my bedroom.

All empty.

But in the final room, I notice something else off.

It looks smaller than usual.

I tap the wall and it sounds hollow.

Something is behind it.

Without another thought I tear it off, something which is rather easy to do.

Here it is…

All the stuff I had previously been collecting or sparing up.

Clothes, essentials, even some of my furniture.

Almost as if the wall had been trying to eat it and didn’t get to finish consuming the whole meal because I came too early.

Did someone break into my house, just to move everything? To mess with me?

“Stop what you’re doing and hands where I can see them!” A voice suddenly yells behind me.

I do as he says.

“Alright, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“You don’t look like a squatter.”

“I’m not, I rent this place, fair and square.”

The cop doesn’t seem to believe it and I’m taken to the police station.

A couple of hours later they seem confused, the papers do prove my existence and that I rent that place, yet no one in the building knew me anymore.

When it’s finally decided that there’s no reason to keep me anymore, I’m allowed to leave.

But I don’t want to return to my apartment.

I need some fresh air.

Everything is so strange and so suffocating.

I find a bench and sit down.

Maybe I should call my father or brother, I’m a bit scared though.

Finally I select my father and start the call.

And as expected he too has forgotten about me.

I hang up without answering his questions.

I actually have to go to work tomorrow, but I don’t think they would miss me if I skip a shift.

At first I think it’s raining, but after a couple of drops I notice that it’s coming from me.

Slowly at first, but then falling quicker and with more.

One by one they cool down my already cold face and plunge towards the ground.

There are people around, but they don’t seem to be able to even see or hear me.

I feel so childish right now, crying outside on some bench.

Like one in the supermarket not getting what they want.

I’m alive, I should be happy about that at least.

I still remember myself.

Be positive…

But I just can’t.

People usually remember bad things better than good things.

Maybe… if I do something awful…

No, I won’t go down that path.

Even if everyone constantly forgets me, I still want to make people happy with my presence.

That’s how I was raised and what has become my reason for living.

Being a good person even if no one knows you.

But if memories of others are the deciding factor if you’re good or not… then I will never be.

I sit here now, still outside in the cold, trying to think back on my own life.

But every time fewer comes back to mind and I start doubting the memories that do return to me.

Did all that really happen? Or is it all just my imagination?

I had a name once, a beautiful name.

It was my mother who gave it to me…

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

My footsteps echo through the dark hallway.

I swallow hard as I get close enough to the door.

Damnit… Does it really have to be done?

I can feel my arms tremble.

Just before coming here I dressed warmer, but the cold is still entering my body.

“Come on, come on.” I whisper trying to get some motivation into my body.

One minute.

Two minutes.

“Fuck…”

I press the doorknob down and look down the stairs.

I have no choice but to go down.

Step.

Step.

The echo is louder here, the cold is even more present here.

I turn on the light, but it doesn’t have the ability to make me see any further in front of me.

And yet, falling is the last of my fears.

Finally I reach the final door, I dread this one the most.

I feel like I’m getting sick.

With trembling hands I stick the key in and turn it, opening the door automatically with it.

The door opens with a loud creek.

In the middle of the room there’s a person sitting on a chair, their legs crossed as if they own the place.

Damnit I really should have made sure they couldn’t move those either.

Just in time I hide the tremble of my hand by shifting over the food tray to the other.

Step.

Step.

It’s too loud.

The pale figure remains still.

I breathe in, but accidentally inhale the terrible stench that hangs down here and will never be able to leave.

I’ve tried cleaning before, but it just doesn’t work.

The ‘thing’ before me too, I threw it out a long, long time ago…

And yet…

It always finds a way back.

The figure’s head suddenly snaps towards me and I hear something crunch, making me want to gag.

Dead eyes look at me with a horrid smile.

A smile breaking apart the face’s flesh.

The food tray clatters onto the floor, spilling the contents all over.

Slowly the mouth starts going up and down, delivering cold, dead words.

Words of a person who long since belongs in the other realm.

“I will be here with you… forever.”

There’s an unearthly giggle.