Twenty nine suns have passed me by since I had that strange dream. It didn’t feel like it brought bad omen, neither had it the positive effect. I awoke the next morn cold, my limbs numb and heavy. No, I wasn’t sweating when I woke up, just unsure what to make of this unexpected event.
Life went on as usual, with the exception of a ‘bonus’ daily experience. The same dream represented itself in my mind every noon around 3 o’clock. Initially, I found it distracting and I started playing virtual games to get my mind off it, but I soon learned to accept the flashbacks whenever it happens. But today, it didn’t come.
I waited till the hour hand crawled slowly away from the number three. When the clock stroked four, I took a brisk stroll to the park and shoot some hoops. Yeah, I went ‘basketball-ing’ in the open under the hot afternoon sun. By myself. That earned me a few uncomfortable stares from the occasional passers-by. I fell asleep peacefully that night, as were the previous nights before and after that strange dream.
Short and quick clawing sounds at the door of my room startled me awake.
“Bacillus, that you?” Upon hearing my voice, the scratching got more persistent. Hope my parents won’t notice the new marks. He was a Maine coon, otherwise known as an American Longhair, a domestic cat with a distinctive physical appearance and valuable hunting skills.
“What’s wrong?” I asked when it didn’t enter. Yeah, talking to a cat was actually the “in thing” when nobody else in the family bothers to communicate with you. What about the family dog? It only knows how to eat, shit, and flop down on its back for belly-rubs. Oh, it sleeps in the same room as my sisters’, air-conditioned. I wore my shoes as I chased after Bacillus which has disappeared down the hallway.
I found it circling before the front door, hairs stood rigid and its back. It was three in the morning. I walked to the door naively, not even in the least bit suspicious if there’s one or more house burglar with a metal wrench at hand, ready to knock the lights out of the idiotic fellow who will be opening the door in a moment’s time.
There was no one at the door. Bacillus, which was at my right, suddenly took a giant leap back, hissing. I looked down and saw a light blue crystal pendant framed by an iron circlet chained to a silver necklace. I picked it up and held it within eye level for a better look. What? It was shiny. But the moment I touched it, a ghost of breeze passed around me and into the house. A powerful force compelled me to move away from the house. The further I got away from it, the less nauseous I feel.
I tucked the jewellery into my left pocket and started walking. Bacillus made a sound when I reached the gate and I turned around to find it tagging the front porch with its paw, testing its solidity. What was as it being paranoid about? I left the thought behind and began to pick up my pace. The skeletal structure of a tall building, twenty floors above ground, stood out of place amongst surrounding short office buildings. It was a project abandoned shortly after the “Poltergeist Kills Twenty” case spread nationwide. I took an involuntary gulp as my feet walked on its own towards it.
It was left as it was due to some unexplained phenomenon that took place seven years ago. To cut the story short, twenty men were killed during the construction. All of them were found fatally wounded by the equipment they used during work. Pelted by hammers, scorched by an iron-wielder, a few of them got rolled over by the construction truck. A distant relative of mine got pile-driven through his torso while his partner seemed to be smashed up by a steel toolbox, mega-ouch indeed. As I drew closer, realization dawn upon me that I was not alone on this mysterious journey.
All around me, individuals jogged towards the building too. A few of them wore their necklace. I recognized a classmate almost on sight and waved to him. He waved back, an expression of confusion and uncertainty smeared on his face as was on many others, so I noticed. I was shock that I accepted what was happening to me, to us, so calmly. Perhaps, perhaps it is because of the unusual dream I had a month ago, which followed up without fail for almost a month, geared me up for experiences similar to what I am currently experiencing.
“Maehr, what’s going on?” My classmate whispered when he closed the distance between us, our feet didn’t permit us to stop though.
“Don’t know. I’m as clueless as you are.” I said, he grunted his discontent before sprinting off to join a group around our age. I heard them whispered about with each other and shot stares at me.
“Seems like Mr. Know-it-all knows nothing at all.” One of the boys declared, making sure that I was able to hear him, loud and clear. It was true though, I was academically good but I suck at reading moods, the main reason why I’m always single on Valentine’s Day for the last five years ever since I hit puberty. It hit a nerve and he was pleased to see me quicken from a light jog to serious running. I put my distance away from them and their ever-smug faces, but I could not turn my back from the dead concrete tower, so I took a detour instead. I was not afraid of getting lost, as I can only move forward. Go figure.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
As I kept running, I began to take notice of my surroundings. The streetlights were lit but every single house I passed by were filled with darkness, not a shred of light shown past the windows. There was not a living being to be found either. The engine of neighbourhood security patrol car hummed idly in the middle of the road and I found the vehicle to be vacant when I ran past it. I decided to turn into an alley where many strays usually took refuge, or were supposed to when night falls, but there was not a single animal to be found, not even the usual fat filthy furry rat that scrams away when you go near the food dumpster in which it religiously feasts in.
A faint tug at my chest made me ceased all movements; it felt as if someone was pulling my shirt. After a moment of uncertainty, my feet resumed jogging. An abrupt jerk pulled me forward and I caught my footing in time to avoid a fall. But I could not avoid the next one which was brutal and violent. This pull became more frequent in the next couple of seconds. When I felt like I couldn’t keep myself up anymore, it yanked me straight to the ground. My chest slammed into soft soil unpleasantly and my face and limbs followed after it.
A soft familiar purr from on my right startled me and I turned my head towards the sound.
“Bacillus, where did you come from?” I spoke to the cat which, without doubt, was mine. “What would lonely me do if something happened to you?”
A wave of dizziness washed over me as I sat upright and scanned where I was. It seems as if I have teleported or something. The abandoned project, which many had nicknamed ‘Ghost Tower’, loomed high and dark before me. Its whole structure was covered in parasitic plants and vines that were as thick as my thighs. Aluminium sheets, made beautiful by some artistic graffiti, fenced off Ghost Tower from the outside world and the barrier was at least ten feet high. No escape there.
As I got to my feet, something strong and solid fell from the sky and wrapped itself around my waist. It then flung me into the air, headfirst towards the roof. Other victims ‘flew’ parallel to me at varying speeds and to our unexpected surprise, a really large-sized kid overtook us, not that any of us were in a hurry to find out what doom await us up there. We arrived and, through common sense, scampered away from the edge of the roof towards the middle of the square platform.
There were about thirty of us gathered on the roof top. Most of us are confused, few including myself were calm. The classmate and his group that mocked me earlier were shooting stares at me and murmuring about with each other. Nearby ears caught snips and bits and started spreading. Before anyone could accuse me of witchcraft, sorcery or whatever shit they would have come up with, a broad plank of wood appeared out of nowhere and dropped onto the floor loudly. Well, that drew everyone's attention.
It began to make scratchy-noises as it started carving words on itself. Those near the wood spout vulgarities and dogged away from it. When it stopped, it was eerily quiet. Daredevils took a few steps towards it before running back towards their friends and daring them to do the same. But none of them ever got close to reading what was scrawled on it.
A pair, probably in their eighteens, walked with confidence in their gait towards it. One had a thuggish look on his face with autumn red hair cropped short to the skull and he wore the silver necklace proudly, probably thinking that it made him better looking. It did though. The other had a bored expression, his black Asian hair long but kept behind ears, which hung an inch or two above his shoulders. His necklace was wrapped a few times on his left wrist so that it represented a bracelet.
“Welcome.” Red-haired boy said aloud for us to hear, “I am the reason why thirty of you are gathered here. If you are not content with your being alive still, you can jump off the building. I guarantee you that you would wake up from this dream. Though, the ride up here would be a waste then. Tell me your name, the one who speaks.”
No one took up the ridiculous offer to commit suicide. Who would? Even in a dream.
“My name is Lufine.” Red-haired boy paused before answering into the howling wind and the silence it brings after it passed. All thirty pair of eyes gazed at the board, waiting for something to happen. Anything.
And as if it heard our thoughts, the word started carving itself again. When it stopped, Lufine raised its head and looked about before speaking, a tint of embarrassment in his voice.
“Anyone brought with them a writing utensil? I knife would do too.”
“Kellor, I-I’ve brought my house key with me, would it help?” A girl in light purple sleepwear shuffled forward. A boy, no younger than a twelve year old, tagged behind her nervously.
“That would do,” The one next to Lufine took the key courteously. “Thanks, Tiffanie.”
“What did it say?” She whispered.
“Nothing of importance, at least not yet, it’s just doing the formalities with Lufine. Get behind, and hold John’s hand tightly.” Tiffanie did as was told without delay. Clearly, we could see that it was something of importance because beads of sweat trickled down Lufine’s face rapidly as he carved replies to the board. His jaw clenched tight, brows knit close together, almost touching. At last, Lufine placed the wood down and turned around and spoke, a new confidence was in his voice, like that of a commanding officer’s.
“This plank-” He winced slightly, but it was a winced nonetheless. “The ghost trapped in this piece of wood is a strong and terrible mage from a hundred years ago, and we’re going to help free him. In order to do that, he needs certain relics hidden here in our city.”
“So, a ghost wants us to steal precious objects from the museum?” The one who teased me earlier spoke. “What if we don’t want to do what he says? I mean, he’s just a plank. A plank that appeared out of no-”
He was cut off immediately by an unexpected vine that plucked him off the ground and tossed him away into the air. All eyes were upon him as he flailed his hands about in the sky, his scream diminishing every second. His small outline, with the moon shining bright behind him, was suddenly eaten by a shadow that represented a large bird, possibly that of a giant albatross from the Flintstone era.
There was a long shriek in the sky above and all became still on earth below.