Chapter Two

William E. Nott was fed up. His heater was broken, his package was late, and his mum still hadn’t wished him a happy birthday. She was four and a half years late. He checked his watch, the delivery was supposed to arrive 30 minutes ago. Shaking his head, he reminded himself to never pay for express delivery again. Putting his bare feet on the cold hardwood floor, Will got up and stretched his stiff limbs. He continued contorting his body until each joint cracked like uncooked spaghetti and then made his way up the stairs. He was going to his study. Walking through the doorway, he was greeted with the same chaotic clutter he was used to; Books on the floor, Bottles on the shelves, computer in the bin, and his pet cockapoo, Carlos, on the desk. Moments later, He faced an old, shabby machine in the corner of the study. It looked like a printer from the 90s except it had a cracked crystal ball on top. Adorned on the side was ‘The Oracool’ in silver lettering. Will reached round the back and plugged the decrepit machine in. It booted up with a whir. He then pressed a few buttons, and the whir became even louder. After a minute or two, the old contraption spat out a piece of paper. It read:

Happiness comes to those who wait

But so does dissatisfaction.

When one has no plan of action,

Turn to Prophe-C, edition 8.

Will rolled his eyes at the promo for the company’s new release that prefaced every e-divination and continued on reading.

A failed transaction starts this tale

And with it, comes in a spineless male.

Will he? Or Will E. Nott?

This is integral to the plot.

Book strikes face and, with said attack,

Bears to existence a sickening ‘thwack’.

Many more shall be affected

Including one who’ll feel dejected

By the arrival of a strange T-shirt.

So, the fates ask that you stay alert.

For now harks the beginning of adventure,

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Wherein........................

*

To find out more, please pay for our premium membership account. With this, you will have access to many more features such as; No word cap on prophecies, accurate weather predictions, predictive text on your phone, and SO MUCH MORE!

Will shook his head in exasperation and stared at the object. The rusty contraption ignored his withering glare. How at all is this helpful? I just wanted to know when my parcel was going to arrive. He heatedly turned on his heel and stormed out of the study. Carlos slept on peacefully. As he walked, Will scrunched up the paper, made his way over to the kitchen, and threw it into the non-recycling before returning to the living room. Behind him, the recycling bin coughed and spat out the savaged piece of paper, which then self-righteously put itself into the recycling bin opposite. Back in the living room, Will was about to sit down on his chair until a harsh gong still his movement. It was the doorbell.

“FINALLY!” He cried as he raced to the door.

***

Holding back tears had never been harder for the quivering heap that was the delivery boy, Paddy. His surroundings were alien, and danger seemed to surround him. No less than three minutes ago Paddy was hopping out his truck in front of a looming, red-bricked house spotted with moss, for a delivery. As he followed the paved walkway that led through the front garden, there was an uncomfortably loud pop, and everything went dark. Paddy instantly felt weightless. He was embraced in a dark void. After a few seconds, there was a prickling feeling on his skin as his hair stood on end. Then there was the pop Paddy was now familiar with before he was thrown, headfirst, onto a wooden patio.

The wood was clean and dark, and as he looked around, Paddy started to hear a high pitched squealing noise as if someone was strangling a tank of helium. It was him. Cutting off his terrified squeaking with an embarrassed cough, Paddy resumed his surveying of the area. He was currently situated above the steps of an African Padauk patio and in front of him was a large, dazzling golden door. He looked past the railings on the deck to the surroundings and was once again struck dumb. The house he was on stood atop a small hill and in the distance was a titanous mountain, capped with snow and trees, seemingly untouched by anyone. Surrounding it was a forest of unimaginable proportions. The leaves were a searing green, and the bark almost glittered in the sunlight. The smallest tree reached the height of an average skyscraper. Paddy was lost in his admiration of this fantastical scenery. He saw something breach the top of the trees. It looked like the head of some sort of lizard. THE HEAD OF SOME SORT OF LIZARD?!?! And, before he could control himself, The high pitched squealing started again. The grey-scaled head turned towards him, and its glacial blue eyes froze him solid. Thankfully, the warmth of the pee that was now running down his leg got him moving. He stood up, turned on his heel, and valiantly fled to the golden door.

“HELP!” He screeched. 10 seconds. No response. He was about to shout again until he noticed the small doorbell on his right. He pressed it. Within seconds a Giant man opened the door. His face wore a permanent scowl, and his arms were crossed. He was bare-chested, and his trousers were flared and flowing, giving him the look of someone that just recently found themselves in Thailand. However, to Paddy, he looked like a hero. Paddy opened his mouth to thank him, but the slim, dark-skinned man beat him to it. Grabbing the parcel out of Paddy’s clammy hands, he said,

“You were late” and started to close the door.

***

The door shut and Will turned around, happy he now had his parcel. As he walked back to the living room, he could have sworn he heard a faint cry of grief, a quiet nooooo. But quickly shrugged it off as his imagination and sat down at his table. He was ready to open it up. Seconds of tearing at cardboard, plastic, and paper ensued before Will stared at what he was given. What? Wheres the book? Straight away, his thoughts went into overdrive. He sat there, in silence, staring at his hands for 10 minutes straight. Then, he took a deep breath in to calm himself down and ran through what he knew:

He needed a refund, he now was the proud owner of a hot pink T-shirt that said ‘I need a hug’, and he was a lot more interested in that useless prophecy.