#ooooo intriguing

I was stopped in my tracks in the front hall when Karen called to me from the kitchen.

“Oh, Jessica,” she said, “if you’re going upstairs, could you tell Derek I need to speak with him, please? He should just be in his room.”

“Sure, Karen,” I forced out through the nervous lump forming quickly in my throat. I didn’t want to tell her I wouldn’t do her a simple favour, but the pressure of that task slowly built within me as I let my legs carry me upstairs. It seemed like just a little too much.

I did not like Derek, and though I’d survived our first few run-ins, the feeling of fear he’d tried to install in me hummed as I grew nearer, like a warning signal. I ascended to the third floor, and I realized as I reached the landing that I would have to interrupt him, and I had no idea how he would react to that.

The door to his bedroom had been left slightly open, just a small crack, and I heard faint music flowing out through the gap. I swallowed and refused to give myself the chance to think twice about it and stop myself. I raised my hand and tapped on the door three times.

The music stopped abruptly. “What?” demanded Derek in a snappish tone.

There was no backing out of this now.

I hated how my hand shook slightly as I gently pushed the door open a bit further. Its hinges creaked. I only opened it enough so I could see him, sitting on his bed, laptop in front of him. His dark eyes were piercing me like needles.

“Karen wants to see you,” I said softly, robotically. My heart pounded against my ribs, and I hoped he couldn’t hear it in my voice. “She’s in the kitchen.”

Derek let out a sigh – something between an annoyed sigh and a non-verbal grunt – rolled his eyes, stepped off of the bed, and pushed past me out the door. The woodsy scent he carried hit me as he purposefully bumped my shoulder. His footsteps quieted as he moved swiftly down the stairs.

I wanted to leave and slip back into the safety of my own bedroom, but some niggling little feeling stopped me. He’d left his computer open and running. It would be easier to keep myself out of harm’s way if I had an idea of how he thought, and a look at his personal property could give me so much, even if it was only a glimpse.

But that was risky. If I was caught, who knew what would happen? He was bigger than me. He could potentially kill me if he wanted to. I rolled my bitten bottom lip between my teeth while the speedy heartbeat in my chest remained steadily at a worried pace. In the end, my curiosity gained triumph over my fears and my conscious that scolded me. I inhaled deeply in preparation, and slowly forced myself to inch into a new, unknown territory: Derek Peck’s bedroom.

It looked similar in layout to my room. The wooden walls and ceiling were painted white, some parts of the few drywalled bits a little whiter than others. The natural floors I had across the wall were covered here by a hard, light grey carpet. There weren’t very many bright colours – if any at all. My silent footsteps stuttered and my pulse leapt into my ears when I noticed a reddish-brown punching bag in the corner. I made a mental note: potential to be violent? There was a window seat like in my room, the glass looking out to the backyard. The furniture was basic: an organized desk, a dresser, and his bed with nightstands flanking it.

I advanced to the laptop, dropping my bag to the floor. A music player was open and taking up the screen, paused in the middle of a song called Break Your Knees by a band named Flyleaf. The title itself didn’t help my worry.

There was something open behind that. I clicked off the player and the screen was split between a document and an PDF of the ancient pages of a book with scribbled, illegible words. I ignored the latter, and scrolled up in the document from the bottom, skipping over paragraphs to see what it was all about. In the text, it had been given the title The Grimoire Devotionum Invidiae. My heart was pumping in my wrists now, and I glanced back up at the open door cautiously. There had been no change, but my brain yelled at me that it wasn’t wise to stay in here much longer. I didn’t know what Karen had needed him for, and how long whatever it was would take them.

Just the first few sentences, I decided, and then I’ll leave.

All known records of The Grimoire Devotionum Invidiae only last from its initial date of creation in the late 1410s, through its completion in the following century, until the year of its disappearance from history, 1671. For its two-and-a-half centuries of varying accounts, The Grimoire Devotionum Invidiae stands to be one of the most sinister spell books of all time. Its function was to contain spells of malicious nature, as its title might suggest. There is much debate over whether or not this book was created as a record or study into dark magic, or as a scripture to be used as a guide for those with ill intent.

Written entirely in Latin, th