It all started because of a single mistake. A small mistake that would lead to a shift in just about every aspect of my life.

I was sitting, relaxing in my good ol’ gaming chair, playing a game. Which was what I did most days. That, watch anime or browse the web for hours with no destination. Just letting one thing lead me to another and jumping into whatever rabbit hole I could find. It was to stave off the eternal boredom I felt.

Some would say I was simply lazy, and maybe I was, but I liked to think it was just that I hadn't found something worth my time yet.

The doorbell rang and I ignored it; assuming that, like usual, he’d leave the package on the doorstep. I’d go collect it in a few minutes as I couldn't pause my game. I never understood why some people had a hard time understanding that some games couldn't be paused, and I didn't want to die to a boss that had taken me hours to get to. Thank god, I wasn’t living at home anymore.

The doorbell rang again. This time twice in quick succession. I frowned and quickly moved my character to a safe area before pulling my headset off.

I got to my feet and wobbled as my legs protested. You know that feeling when to stand up after having been relaxing for a while? Yeah, I got that a lot. I walked out of my small room, it had barely enough space to hold my gaming setup, and out into what you could call a living room.

I didn't call it that since I didn't spend much time in it. To an outside observer, the place probably looked like a grenade had recently gone off. Clothing, food boxes, and more were scattered about. However, there was an order to the chaos and so long as I knew where everything was, it would be staying as is.

I snorted to myself. It's not like I ever had anyone around. Not since I had first moved in, so eager and ready to make my own way.

The doorbell rang again, and I shouted, “Relax, I'm coming.”

It better not be a Jehovah's witness or something. I didn't remember ordering any packages online, but I could have forgotten.

I pulled open the door and found nothing at first. I moved my head out of the apartment and looked down both sides of the hallway. Nope, nothing. I glanced down and found a box just in front of the door.

“Why ring then?” I muttered.

I picked up the box and closed the door. The first oddity and sign that it was not something I had ordered was that it had no labels on it whatsoever. Not even a sticker or number. Nothing at all. Just a plain cardboard box.

I shook it, and something moved. I did it a few times, and each time something moved back and forth. In retrospect, I probably should have gone and asked my neighbors if this was their package, but as you’ll soon find out, my curiosity tends to get the better of me.

In this case, I tore the box open, bits of cardboard joining the rest of the mess on the floor of my living room.

“A book?”

It looked old and worn with a faded blue cover. There were gold markings on the cover and the spine of the book, that, unlike the rest, seemed unaffected by time. It was hefty, about the size of a game of thrones novel, but wider. It looked like something you might find in a Skyrim or some other fantasy game.

I blew on it, and motes of dust flew off. Then when I went to open it it was like the pages were glued together. I used what little strength I had to pull relentlessly, but my body was unused to physical activity, and I was out of breath after just a minute of struggling.

I'd been quite athletic years ago in high school, because I’d played football to try and make friends. It had worked, but also not really. None of them shared any of my actual interests, and talking about sports was like counting sheep to me. It was a good way to make me fall asleep.

Was this some sort of erotic novel? Was that why the pages were stuck together? Someone had been using this as a wank bank? I placed the book down gingerly and decided I couldn't be bothered trying to get it open. If one of my neighbors came asking about it, I’d make up some bullshit like how I’d mistaken it for one of my packages.

I tried to guess who it might belong to as I took a seat in my chair. Mrs. Patterson definitely seemed like the type to buy old books, but not like this. This thing seemed too old even for her. In fact, maybe the reason it couldn't open was that it was a cosplay piece. Though that was doubtful. My other neighbor, James, was not a lover of fantasy or anything for that matter. The one time I’d seen the interior of his apartment, it had been like walking into a prison; devoid and barren of anything but the basics.

I picked up my controller and played well into the night until finally, my stomach rumbled with the call for sustenance. There was a coin on my desk, and whenever I couldn't decide between two foods, I flipped it. In this case, I was feeling pizza or Chinese.

The coin landed, and pizza it was.

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My phone was nowhere on my desk, so with a groan, I stood from my chair, and shuffled into the living room. My apartment was as basic as they came. A living room connected to a small kitchen, one bedroom, and a toilet. It was very small, but I found it cozy.

Then the voice came.

“Oi, tubby!”

I froze and glanced back towards my room. I wasn't playing an online game, and even if I had, how the hell would they know I was overweight? Do you know how whenever you hear a sound in the dead of night, you pause to check if you hear it again? Most times you don't expect a follow-up and when you do, you usually realize it's some mundane bullshit like a dripping faucet or a pet moving around.

“I’m over here, not there.”

The voice came again, and, this time, I was sure it was not coming from my room. I turned in its direction, expecting to find an intruder. Nothing. Just empty space.

“Hello?” I asked wondering if I had maybe gone overboard on the energy drinks. I tended to consume can after can when I was gaming, losing track. My current record was around fourteen in a row. I don't recommend downing energy drinks, certainly not Red bulls, in a row. Maybe they were finally catching up with me.

“Yes, hello, now kindly get me away from these crumbled-up tissues.”

“Is someone there?”

“What? Are you deaf, dumb, or both? Yes, someone’s there. I'm there.”

My eyes moved down as I pinpointed where the sound was coming from. The book, which was still on the small table next to some lotion, which I only used for my hands… I swear.

I relaxed somewhat as I walked over. The book was some sort of case from a phone or something, and some had called. For a moment I thought I’d lost it. The voice began talking once more, but I ignored it as I tried to figure out how to open it once more. Maybe there was a switch. The clarity of the voice was amazing, which was odd as I couldn't find a speaker.

“Oi, stop fiddling with my spine. Ask before you touch. You don't have laws of consent wherever we are?”

“I’m not touching your spine, and where are you calling from?”

“Whose spine is it then, huh? And I'm not calling from anywhere. Now stop touching my spine. I warn you.”

I ignored the voice. Whoever was on the other end of this call was acting decidedly strange. I kept trying to find a way to open the book when a shock hit me. I cursed and dropped the book.

“I warned you. Don’t touch. You are not my master.”

“Are you controlling this thing? Did you shock me?”

“What…” Whoever was on the other side of the call took in a deep breath. “I just had to get stuck with a mundane idiot,” it said softly, before raising its voice. “Do you believe in magic?”

“Who, me?”

“No, the other guy. Yes, you!”

“You mean, like art and music and shit?” I asked

“No, I mean like magic,” the person replied, his tone slightly frustrated.

“Like harry potter magic?”

“Those movies are about as far from the truth as it gets, but yes, like harry potter magic.”

“I'm not eight years old, so no,” I replied. “Should I get James? Is he the one you were tryin’ to call? Or was it Mrs. Patterson? You sound old.”

“I don't know who those people are, and I’m not calling anyone. Not even you.”

I was about to ask what it meant when the book suddenly flew up and hit me directly in the forehead. I let out a cry as I fell back onto my ass, not just at the force, but the fact the book had moved by itself.

“How about now, huh? Believe in magic?”

I winced as I moved a hand to my forehead. “What, no.”

The book flew across the room and hit me once more. “How about now, huh? Believe in magic.”

Maybe the attacks had caused some sort of mental damage, but instead of getting shocked, I got pissed. Really pissed. I had been bullied plenty during my life, and I was not about to take it from a damn book.

The book had landed just a few feet to my right. I lunged but it slid out of the way, and my head smacked against the floor.

“Ha, you're magically inept, I’ll give you that, muggle.”

“Who the fuck are you calling muggle?” I asked while getting to my feet, and glaring at the book.

“So, you believe in magic now?” The book's tone was full of amusement and cockiness. Like so many others I remembered, and had cursed through many of my later high school days, and beyond during my short tenure as an employee at a cafe. The place had been run by a douchebag of the highest magnitude. He hit on the female employees, and seem to get a kick out of making my life harder. Chad. He even had the name of a stereotypical douchebag.

“I believe I'm about to kick your ass?” I yelled as moved forward, raising a foot. I brought it down but stopped at the last second. The book as I predicted moved to the right. I followed it and brought my foot down on its cover.

“Ha,” I yelled in triumph only for the book to slide from under my foot with surprising speed. I fell onto my back. I landed painfully, the back of my head hitting the floor.

“Nice try, but I’m not some flesh sack meatbag.”

“Fine,” I spat out. I got up and dashed to the kitchen, while the book shouted, “What now? Look let's just pause for a moment and talk, huh?”

“Talk?” I yelled as I pulled a lighter from a drawer. It was one of those long ones, used for cooking. “You should have thought about that before you hit me.”

“Listen, kid, I don't want to do what I'm about to do, but I will.”

“Oh yeah?” I said as I walked back into the room, holding my lighter like a gun.

“Oh wow, caveman got fire,” the book said. “What you gonna do with what big guy, cook yourself a meal? You certainly don’t look like you need it.”

Fat jokes. I grit my teeth. I knew I was fat, and I wasn’t proud of it, but neither was I ashamed. I’d dealt with a lot of trouble over my weight, and this apartment was a place to get away from all that. To get away from everything. Or it had been, until now.

I’m not sure how it knew I was glaring, but it did. Then again I should have been questioning how a book was talking and moving in the first place. “Listen, big guy,” it said. “Let's just calm down and talk, ok? We both said a few things we didn't mean. We both got some licks in. And I suggest you put that down before you burn down this place or trip.”

I probably should have listened to it, but my anger got the better of me, and I charged at it, lighter held in front of me.

“I gave you a chance.” The book opened, its pages flying by, moved by an invisible gust. Just a foot away from it, blue light burst from its pages and smacked me directly in the chest. I felt a searing heat, and then nothing. Everything went dark.