Legend of the Book Keeper (5 page)

possess you to do something so stupid! So, I’m already too late; we’re doomed!” Wesley screamed.

A bead of sweat ran down Cody’s forehead. Clearly he was missing something. “But, Sir, why are you doomed? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Wesley pierced Cody with a penetrating stare and a crooked smirk formed across his face causing his rough forehead to wrinkle and his face to take on a demented appearance.

“Clearly, Master Clemenson, you misunderstand me.
I
am not doomed.
We
are doomed. This
world
is doomed.”

Cody shuddered; his head was burning.
It’s just a stupid book!
The conversation was brought to a quick silence. A loud thud was heard from above their heads. Once again the floor began to sag under the pressure of footsteps clicking across the floor like fingers tapping on a table. Cody shot a glance to Wesley for an answer. Wesley’s face had gone completely pale. “It’s here,” he whispered in a terrified voice that seemed distant and not directed at anyone in particular.

“Who’s here? What’s going on, Wesley?!” But the elderly man had already disappeared out the door. Cody followed him at a sprint. The footsteps overhead were growing louder and were accompanied by a steady banging.
Thud
. Whoever was upstairs was trying to get through Wesley’s bedroom door.
Thud.
By the sound of it, they would soon succeed.

Wesley had run to his desk and was hurriedly flipping through his files and tossing papers into the air muttering, “Out of time, out of time.” Cody caught up to him and stood petrified watching Wesley scrounge around his desk like a madman. Terrified as he was, Cody knew it was unwise to interrupt the elderly man.
Thud.

At last, Wesley seemed to have found what he was looking for—he pulled a large sword out from the cabinet beside his desk. The sword looked like something from the medieval days. Next, he pulled out a smaller dagger. Grabbing a piece of paper, he tore it in two and began scribbling madly. Without a word, he took one of the sheets and pinned it onto the wall with the dagger. Cody opened his mouth to question the strange turn of events but Wesley held a finger out, “Don’t talk. Listen . . .”
Thud.
“There is no time for me to explain. But there might still be hope. Take this,” he said, shoving a crumpled piece of paper into Cody’s hand, “And I want you to run. Find somewhere safe. This letter,” he said pointing to the paper he had just given Cody, “will guide you from there.”
THUD—
The upstairs door had been breached.

Cody glanced with horror to the staircase but Wesley grabbed his shoulder. Wesley’s face had changed. His eyes no longer burned with rage, but looked weary, almost sad, “Boy, I’m sorry it had to be you. Destiny is a sly devil, my lad. The code is now in your hands. Now run. And under
no
circumstances let anyone read that Book. Only
your
eyes, do you understand? Otherwise all is lost. I’m so, so sorry.” With these final words, Wesley ran toward the stairs, sword in hand.

Cody didn’t need to be told twice. Shoving the book underneath his shirt he ran to the front door. He fumbled franticly with the lock. He heard a chilling scream from upstairs, but didn’t intend to wait around long enough to find out from whom. With the door finally open, Cody dashed out into the pouring rain and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Reaching the alleyway, Cody turned back for one final glance at the mansion. The place looked desolate, all the childhood ghost stories racing back to Cody’s mind.
What just happened in there?
Suddenly he saw the drapes in the bay windows shuffle. Pressing himself against the wall, Cody squinted his eyes. Although the fog hindered his vision, he could make out a faint shape standing in the window. Leaning forward for a better look, he saw two softly glowing red slits.
Eyes? What on earth is in there?
The shape moved. The red slits turned, and for a brief moment, locked eyes with Cody.

The Unseen

T
he telephone stared mockingly as the middle-aged man paced back and forth in the miniscule, dimly-lit room. The lone clock ticked forward as though coated in heavy tar. The man curled his plump upper lip into his mouth and rubbed it with his tongue; he was no coward. He had stared down the face of horrors that had turned even the strongest of men into whimpering children—and without so much as a blink. No, he was no coward. Death was as much a mundanely routine part of his life as flossing his crooked teeth. No, he was no coward.

He continued to repeat this thought to himself as a bead of sweat zigzagged down the wrinkles of his forehead, slid over his nose, and tumbled off his sharply-defined chin. He cast another nervous glance at the telephone sitting lonesome on the brittle wooden table.
Why hasn’t he called yet?
A startling sound echoed in his ears. His arm lurched out with savage speed and brought the phone to his ear, “My lord, I’m . . .”

A blank dial tone greeted him.
It’s just the bloody birds.
He replaced the phone and resumed his pacing. The clock now showed that the anticipated call was two minutes late.
He’s putting me in my place.

At last the phone vibrated on its bearings; its loud ring filling up the room. The sound sent a shiver down his back. The phone rang again.
Blast!
He pulled the phone to his ear, “Forgive me master for being unable to answer on the first ring. I curse myself for keeping you waiting.” Silence. The man knew his life was dangling by a thin wire; his master was not one to be kept waiting. At last a voice responded; it was slow and emotionless, “I trust it will not happen again. Report before I regret my unwarranted display of mercy.” The man exhaled an audible sigh of relief before he could stop himself, “You are most merciful my lord. Events have been . . . put into motion. The first casualty has been claimed. ‘That-which-arrives-in-the-dead-ofnight’ has awoken. The old man has fallen. The Book has been seized by a young boy. My men have just narrowed down his location. Are we to engage?”

The phone was once again silent. The sound of puffing smoke was faintly audible.
Just answer; is this all a game to you?
The cold voice returned, “Yes, but with caution. The boy will be oblivious to the situation. Do not take unnecessary risk, CROSS must remain invisible. We do not exist. I will not accept otherwise.” The man shuttered; he had not the slimmest doubt that the caller was a man of his word.

“I understand, my lord. The target is just a young boy; am I to assume that casualties should be avoided?” The unseen man’s chilling voice responded, “A young boy, a pregnant woman, a carefree child, a proud grandfather—a threat to the cause is intolerable regardless of which insufferable form it takes. If the boy will not cooperate—eliminate him without hesitation. I can assure you, if you fail, you will not receive the same hesitation from me.” The sound of dial tone once again filled the man’s ear.

“Good-bye to you, too,” he muttered bitterly into the receiver. The moment he did, he instantly scanned the room.
You fool, he could be watching you! His web is omnipresent.
At last convinced that his imprudent jab had gone unnoticed, he exhaled and collapsed into a wooden chair. Every time he made contact with his master he felt as though he was playing a terrifying game of Russian roulette. He wiped the sweat from his brow—
I’ve survived another round.
He looked to the corner of the room where a swarm of flies buzzed around an unrecognizable object on the floor. The smell was vile.
Charlie.
His predecessor; at least what was left of him.

Charlie had displeased the master. The consequence had been a well-placed bullet from behind. At the master’s request, Charlie had been left to rot. The man looked away; the sight of the decaying body was sickening.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a metallic object; a shiny six-shooter revolver. He cocked it open and smiled. It was fully loaded. With a fluid movement he flicked it closed.
It’s time to go to work.

The Intruder

A
n explosion of thunder ripped apart the night sky; causing the earth to tremble in solemn reverence. Jade yanked up her covers earnestly and watched the heavy rain wash down her bedroom window like a waterfall, blurring her vision to the outside world. She squeezed her eyes shut—it certainly wasn’t the first time she looked out into the world only to see haze and disorder.

A loud crash resounded from the living room. Jade kept her eyes closed; the familiar smell of stale liquor informed her that her mother had returned from her nightly excursion to the bar. Slowly, and as delicately as she could manage, she rolled over to glance at her clock—1:15 a.m.

There was another loud crash, followed by the cringing sound of shattering glass. “MARI!” screamed a husky voice, “Mari, you wretched, useless child! Get your ugly, flabby butt out here and help your mother! MARI!” Jade squeezed her eyes tighter. With a resonating thud she knew that her mother had just passed out on the floor, once again leaving Jade alone. The bitter taste of moist salty tears rolled over her tongue. She despised herself for her weakness, but allowed the tears to trickle gently over her small cheeks.

Reaching over to her nightstand she twisted on her dusty radio. Soft, classical piano music began to seep gently through the speakers. She took a deep breath.
I miss you dad
she mouthed silently. It had been eight years since her world had come crashing down. Everything had been so perfect before. Her parents were in love and she had been happy. She clenched her fist.
But that was another lifetime ago
.
At least I have Cody
. . .

Suddenly, Jade was pulled away from her melancholy thoughts as a familiar voice sounded through the radio.
“We interrupt our scheduled broadcast for an important announcement . . . this is Sheriff Messiner speaking. Havenwood is being put on a code red alert effective immediately. A man has been murdered tonight. This is the first murder in Havenwood in over thirty years. The victim’s body has been brutally mangled and disfigured, but we confirmed his identity: The bookstore owner, Wesley Simon.”
Jade choked and covered her mouth with her hand.
“We strongly encourage all of you still awake to remain inside, keep your doors locked, and report any unusual activity immediately. We are in pursuit of a suspect. We have reason to believe he is still in Havenwood and is highly dangerous. We thank you for
. . .
”

BANG!
Jade screamed before she could catch herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the faint silhouette of a figure through the window. The enlarged shadow projected upon her bedroom wall advanced toward the front door.
Thump
. . .
thump
. . .
thump
. . . she watched silently as the shadow ascended the stairs and reached for the door. With a soft creak the doorknob twisted and the figure entered the house.

Stay calm, Jade
. There was a soft squeaking as the old wooden floor of the living room bent beneath the weight of the intruder.
Mom!
The sound of the steps confirmed the intruder was heading directly toward her room. Noiselessly rolling out of bed, Jade pulled her bedside lamp from the wall and readied it like a club. The footsteps were getting closer. Her bedroom doorknob began to twist. Jade drew in a deep breath and backed herself into the shadows. Wi
thout a sound the door gently swayed open.