Invisible Ink
an abandoned project that I always come back to...
Invisible Ink
Chapter 1: The Morning After
“Who wrote this?”
Papers were scattered about the room, the walls were peppered with holes and the carpet was torn from the corners, lying in lumps like the owner never even thought of tacking it down. The only light came from between the boards that covered the windows and the spacious gaps that surrounded the front door. The morning light cast an eerie glow on the dust and filth floating around the room, making it seem like it was burning away. It was everything a hangover needed.
A yellowed mattress was the only piece of furniture and Jack Richards sat upon it, gazing at the paper surrounding him. “Who wrote this?” His voice was hoarse and his head throbbed like a bass drum in some trendy club. He thought the utterance of those three words might very well have a chance of causing the pain to kill him. He put his palm on his forehead stifling a groan and picked up a piece of note book paper by his left foot. His shoes were still on. He had all of his clothes on, thankfully. He even ventured to pull his pants down a bit to make sure he still had his underwear. He looked around; he had no idea where he was or how he got there. He furrowed his brow. He couldn’t even remember waking up. It was like he had been sitting there for ages and it just dawned on to move again. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples. When he opened them, a million thoughts later, he looked that the paper in his hand. It was titled “The Shadow’s Ghost.” It looked a hell of a lot like his handwriting, but he hadn’t written a story since his second year of college, right before he dropped out. “Who wrote this?”
He threw the paper over his shoulder and grabbed another. Page 37. “He fell to the ground clutching his head, screaming. ‘What the fuck do you want from me!?!’ An ax fell to the ground beside him. The question answered.” Jack furrowed his brow again. He had a baaaad hangover. Not the worst he had ever had but definitely in the top ten. Give it another hour and it would have a crack at the top five.
He grabbed another page. “Jack sat on the bed, dazed. He had a baaaaad hangover, Not the worst he had ever had but definitely in top ten. Give it another hour and it would have a crack at the top five. Jack was too afraid to admit he was reading everything as it was happening. He dropped the page and as it fluttered to the ground he uttered...”
“What the fuck?” Jack hadn’t realized that he dropped the paper but he felt a sense of dread like he had agreed to a loan without realizing the damn shylock had an Italian name with a bad family connected to it. He scanned the room again, hoping for a clock or anything really, but it was bare. Two boarded up windows and a single door that barely hung onto it’s hinges. More light was sneaking in it’s gaps than it did from the windows. Jack pushed himself up from the bed and stumbled to the door. Paper floated around him like leaves on a
windy day.
Outside the sun was rising, it was morning still. Dew hung to the yard that faded into a forest. Jack could see a paved road off the side but nothing else. No cars, no houses...just a lot of fucking trees. He was sure of it, he had never seen this place before but something about it felt familiar. Like a place that used to be home ten years ago before you went off to do your life. A place that you haven’t been to since you were a kid and after you finally return you realize it isn’t yours anymore. It kept moving without you, growing and experiencing a lifetime of events on its own.
(Home is where the heart is.)
(You can never go back home.)
He turned around and looked at the floor and started picking up the papers. “The Shadow’s Ghost, huh? Well, whoever wrote it picked a pretty gay title.” It had to be some prank but was curious about the story. This wasn’t the normal morning after a bad night. Usually, he woke up next to a girl with low standards; not a handwritten book.
He finished gathering the papers and kicked the mattress as hard as he could manage. It bounced a few feet across the carpet. An envelope was on the floor where the mattress had been. “Read me!” was scrawled on it in a red ink that seemed to shimmer. Jack knelt and picked it up.
BAM.
A resounding crash echoed throughout the room causing Jack to fall backwards on his ass. He scrambled to get up and figure out was going on. A few seconds later his eyes landed on the front door; it had fallen off it’s hinges. “Goddamn...” The door had been defying physics, it was bound to come down at any moment. Jack understood this but something else told him the door was just waiting for him to find the envelope. That was crazy but, something else a little deeper told him that he needed to be leaving. Now!!!
Jack jumped up, stuffing the envelope and papers into his jacket’s inner pocket and bolted out the door. He stopped at the bottom of the porch steps debating where to go next. The sense of dread still clung to him but no option seemed likely to ease it. He could start down the road but he had no clue where it would lead or if the place would better or worse. He had been abducted by prank or force; fuck you very much either way. Someone could be out there waiting for him...
“...or they could be coming back right now, Jack.” He could run toward the woods. He remembered enough from scouts training to find north, probably. Moss had to grow somewhere and he was pretty sure that stars shone at night. A bush rattled in front of him and he heard a low growl. A dog bounded from it with some poor creature in its jaws. Jack was cautiously backing up. The dog, a mix between a mutt and a bear, was dragging its kill; a mix between dogs spit and ground beef, underneath the house.
The house itself scared Jack more than the dog. It was an unpainted shack, little more than a hunter’s lodge but the feeling that it was familiar became stronger. But this familiar felt more like when the sun went down and you knew exactly which monster was under your bed or exactly how much your father had had to drink. This was not a good place.
Jack took off toward the road...