It had been several weeks since Jeremy started typing the stolen book on his computer. The more he typed, the more he discovered about the writings, and his infatuation became stronger word by word. Pressing pause on the video to grab a blurry, but just legible image wasn't very helpful. There was more to the book than just ghosts and supernatural beasts. The book focused on the study of the soul: its nature and vulnerability. He pondered over the width of the book, and he felt he might have come across something big, it could either be against or for him. The most interesting thing about it was that, when he'd done an Internet search there were no copies, no author, it was like it had emerged out of nowhere.
Bit by bit, as he worked his way through it, chapter by chapter, Jeremy felt it was worth creating a digital copy and carefully cataloging each entry on his website. He felt sharing such information could bring satisfaction-and perhaps even attract others interested in the mysteries he'd been piecing together. He felt that, with strange intrusions and events having recently plagued him, it was best if he should rename this book to something a bit ambiguous. He settled with ‘The Dark Tome’. It felt appropriate: a title carrying enough weight to suit the macabre nature of what this book was filled with.
He had practically completed it; he had worked without rest, only one chapter remaining to complete the archive. But when he started to type away on the second-to-last chapter, he came upon something quite unusual: an unfamiliar language, or some form of code. The text was an incomprehensible jumble of symbols and patterns, an encrypted puzzle buried between the words he had translated up until now. The discovery considerably slowed him down, his curiosity mingling with a sense of dread that was beginning to creep in.
Jeremy kept thinking about going back to the abandoned house and digging further, ever since they'd left. However, Alex was always busy: classes in the morning, working at the animation studio in the afternoon. Jeremy had seen a few episodes of the show Alex worked on and was blown away by how so naturally and expressively Alex's voice fit the character. Jeremy was genuinely proud of his friend. Alex was indeed gifted.
Jeremy, in contrast, he passed much of his time in solitude. Only rarely did he join classmates for a project or assignment. He was much into being alone-his mind occupied, mostly, with the cryptic book. Holding the pencil with his eyes lost on the desk scribbles-an impossible code in the innumerable attempts to decipher it, the pencil fell from his hands as his elbow knocked down a pile of books onto the floor.
The room was completely silent, save for the muffled bass from the music upstairs. Jeremy rolled his eyes in annoyance; didn't they know how to behave like decent people? The guys upstairs never seemed to keep their music at a reasonable volume. He got up reluctantly, grabbed a broom, and banged it against the ceiling a few times. “Hey, someone is trying to study down here! Keep it down!” There was a momentary pause in the music accompanied by some giggles, then it resumed, quieter this time.
Jeremy sighed, looking out of the window. It was pouring rain, and he comprehended that he was late. He relinquished it at last with a shake of his head and rushed through the crowd, made off his things assiduously, and headed for class. His day was demanding, crammed with interesting lectures and lab sessions. Being an engineering student, hours had to be spent in huge, brightly lit classrooms, the air drone with computers and the shuffling of paper as students furiously scribbled notes. These consisted of lectures with unceasing flow of equations and concepts which demanded his utmost concentration. The professors, stiff and flamboyant, paced from the front of the hall while their voices echoed on the walls of the huge auditorium.
However horrible the mixture of boredom and tiredness was, thoughts fast engulfed him. Out of the burning haze of his mind flourished the thought of the book, and the mysterious symbols that he still could not decode. He wanted straight answers, with the person to get them from already put in his mind. Jeremy searched for Professor Ashbourne after class. The professor had shown unusual interest in the paranormal, and Jeremy hoped he might shed some insight into the coded text.
He found Ashbourne in his office, a small, cluttered room filled with old books and strange artifacts. The professor glanced up from his desk as Jeremy entered, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Oh, Jeremy what a surprise! Come in and take a sit” he said with a monotonous voice.
Standing in the doorway, Jeremy began to wonder what his purpose was here. Should he talk to someone about it? Should he confide in someone, try to explain what he’s involved in? But it was too late to take a step back. He straightened his posture slightly, but his shoulders slightly hunched in doubt where not helping. Looking this way and that, but not taking his eyes off Mr. Ashbourne too much so as not to seem rude.
This place was a museum, chaotic but tidy, old-fashioned but it seemed like the finest place, filled with history and charm, messy yet somehow curated with care. He walked over to the desk, where Mr. Ashbourne, who stood waiting for him with warm, friendly smile. Jeremy sat down in a small velvet chair; its fabric is soft but unfamiliar. He placed his hands on the book resting on his lap, trying to find some reassurance for his actions.
“Good afternoon. What can I do for you, Jeremy?”
Jeremy hesitated for a moment before pulling out a notebook, opened it to a section of copied scribbles “Hi, Mr. Ashbourne… I was hoping you could help me with this,” he said, handing it over.
Ashbourne’s expression changed the moment he saw the symbols. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes wide. “Jeremy, where did you get this?” was his clear request.
Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. “It’s a long story,” he began, then took a deep breath and told her everything. He talked about finding the book in the library, the strange intruder, and the abandoned house. He mentioned feeling that perhaps the house was engaged in illegal activity with drugs and that he planned on passing the tape to the police for some minor investigations. The professor listened in silence, his eyes never leaving the pages in front of him. When Jeremy finished, Ashbourne leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“Hmmm…this is... interesting, but are you sure you want to involve the police? It could be... dangerous for you and your friend” he muttered, his gaze flicking back to the symbols.
“Wouldn't it be even more dangerous if we didn't call the police?”
“Well, sure... but think about it this way: if the police investigate the house and come up empty-handed, they won’t be able to arrest whoever’s behind it. That's when you're in danger. why? Well, the intruder already knows that you have that map and that you know the location of the residence. That puts you and your friend in a risky spot. Resentment, fear, maybe even desperation could push that person to do something drastic. It could end in tragedy... you just never know. But hey, it's just my advice. You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, of course...”
Jeremy stood there stunned, thinking about the professor's words, when suddenly the professor's voice interrupted his stream of thoughts.
“And getting back to the topic, this language... I had never seen it before, and I have everything here... Whatever this is, it’s beyond my expertise” He paused, as if weighing his words carefully. “I can’t help you, Jeremy. I’m sorry”
Jeremy blinked, taken aback. “I-I understand, thank you for everything”
“Jeremy, wait,” Ashbourne said, stopping him just as he was about to leave. “Tell me, are you okay? I’m surprised at how exhausted you looked in my class… Plus, I heard you throwing up in the public restrooms this morning. Are you sick or something?”
Jeremy stopped short, tensing at the professor’s question. He hadn’t wanted anyone to notice, he was uncomfortable with anyone paying so much attention to him, he didn’t want to be a concern to anyone. He looked down, feeling his feet go numb from the discomfort.
“Uh… I’m not sick, not exactly. It’s more… complicated than that,” he began, with a sigh. “The truth is, I haven’t been eating right. My budget is through the floor lately. It barely covers the basics, so I’m just eating prepackaged food and, well… some vitamins to compensate. I thought I could stay afloat like this, but it seems my body doesn’t agree.”
Ashbourne looked at him with a mix of seriousness and curiosity. “Is that so? Jeremy, you can’t live on just packaged food and vitamins. How did you get into this? Alex work as a voice actor at the park, isn't?”
“Yeah, but he’s still in the testing phase, he’s already recorded a few episodes but he’s nowhere near getting his first paycheck.”
“I totally understand, since I work part-time there. It’s true, the company that runs the park is very strict… I’d say picky when it comes to choosing their employees. They always make sure to pick the best ones. And you… What do you do? Do you have a steady job?”
Jeremy laughed, but it was a bitter laugh, mixed with weariness. “I work as a paranormal investigator,” he confessed. “Yeah, I know, it sounds weird. My friend Alex and I have been doing little investigations here and there, helping people with things that… well, most wouldn’t believe.”
Ashbourne shifted his stance, leaning forward, visibly surprised, but not dismissive. On the contrary, his interest increased. “Paranormal investigator, huh? I didn’t expect that,” he said, crossing his arms. “And you get paid well for it?”
Jeremy nodded. “They pay very well… it’s my own business really. But no one has called this season, it’s very strange. But now… I really need to find something that will give us a steady income.”
The professor nodded slowly, thoughtful. “You know, Jeremy, I have a friend who is always interested in antiques, you know, she loves collecting things that are a little… peculiar and she has mentioned that strange things happen in some of them. It could be in your field. Maybe I could get in touch with her and see if she needs your… skills. What do you think?”
Jeremy’s eyes lit up, surprised and grateful. “Really?! That would be amazing, professor. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Ashbourne smiled softly. “You don’t have to thank me. Just make sure you take care of yourself. And maybe… try to eat something other than packaged food, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Jeremy replied, with a more genuine smile.
“And now, if you allow me, I have a very important call to make. Have a great day, Jeremy.”
The truth is that Jeremy was more surprised than happy, he was very surprised that there were still good-hearted people in the world. It had been a long time since there were people like that. It seemed like they had disappeared from the world, what a pity. People today live in their own glass bubble, they all see but are blind, they hear but they play deaf, simply driven to live for the love of money, fame and luxury. But he was still grateful, as he walked away from the scene.
After a long day of classes and labs, Jeremy returned to his dorm, still silent. Alex had left for work. He threw his bag on the bed and went to the small kitchen. He pulled a prepackaged meal out of the freezer, popped it into the microwave, and watched it slowly spin as it heated up. He was sick of it, the same cheap meals, day after day, but not a single call had come in those months for him to attend to his promised job: investigating haunted houses for paranormal cases. All his equipment and gadgets had become science projects beneath his bunk, a wasted acquisition.
With a deep sigh and a frown in vague annoyance, he sank into his threadbare couch, devouring the last spoonful of his irregular dinner with the same haste a starving man might display. Several other sad packages of frozen stuff awaited him in his nearly empty refrigerator. Wasn’t Alex working? Yes… Well, I phrased that poorly. Alex was doing very well as a voice actor and his singing had brought a lot of praise to the animated series, but Jeremy knew that the food in the refrigerator wouldn't last even until the weekend. The realization sank in: he'd have to ask his parents for money again, something that always left a bitter taste in his mouth.
The clock seemed to echo in the quiet hallway to remind him of the few hours he had left before he left to spend the night at his parents’ house. Normally, he would find an excuse not to go, but tonight he had nothing else to fill his time with. Maybe company would be better than sulking alone; the nagging thought of asking for help plagued him.
The echoes of the plate’s clink filled the quiet space, and he tossed the discarded plate into the small sink next to the compact stove. With a grim sense of duty, he turned his attention to the plate, washing it with soap in bubbles that swirled around his fingers. When he was done, he glanced at the clock on the desk; Alex had half an hour left to get off work. He had to kill time somehow.
He surveyed the apartment. Chaos greeted him. Papers were strewn across the floor, empty energy drink cans cluttered the desk, and were those Alex’s underwear wedged between the couch cushions? Gross… How the hell did I manage to sleep in this pigsty for so long?
With a resigned sigh, he grabbed a pair of gloves, a broom, and a rag, along with a bucket of soapy water. The task felt both overwhelming and necessary. He began sweeping, then scrubbing, determined to turn the cluttered apartment into something resembling order. Each swipe of the rag was a small step toward reclaiming a sense of control over the mess that mirrored the chaos in his own life. The mundane chore became almost meditative, as if cleaning up the physical mess around him might help clear his mind too.
Alex came home from work miserable, contemptible, and pallid. He moved sluggishly, and the weight of the day hung on his back like a veil of fog. Once inside, he could hardly pay any attention to the sound of the damp rag dragged across the floor. Upon entering the bedroom, however, he was not very stunned to see Jeremy kneeling on the floor scrubbing it with a rag with a bucket of soapy water beside him, but the biggest shock to Alex was the numbness. Normally, something like this might have elicited a playful comment, maybe even a lighthearted argument about whose turn it was to clean. But tonight, Alex just did not have the energy for jokes.
He tossed his keys on the tabletop, and they made a sound that echoed uncomfortably in his ears. Alex slumped onto the couch behind Jeremy. The piled silence in the room almost seemed oppressive. Mid-scrub, Jeremy sensed Alex's discomfort and looked over his shoulder. He could feel the tension before Alex spoke, in the sound of silence echoing shafts in his ears. “Hey, what's wrong?” Jeremy asked gently, his hand coming to rest on Alex's shoulder.
For a moment, Alex didn’t answer. His eyes were glazed, staring into the middle distance as though he was still trying to process the news himself. Finally, he turned toward Jeremy, his voice cracked and barely above a whisper. “I got fired, Jeremy. They-they cut me from the role.”
The words seemed to hang in the air, heavier with each passing second. Jeremy’s brow furrowed in disbelief. “What?! How? You were perfect for that part. What happened?”
Alex’s breath hitched as he tried to explain, his hands trembling slightly in his lap. He looked down, unable to meet Jeremy’s eyes. “I-I don’t know. The production manager called me into his office, told me they were going in a different direction... and just like that, I left. I thought… I was good enough. I thought that maybe I was finally making it” His voice broke as the floodgates opened, and the tears came, unbidden and uncontrollable “Dad was right…”
Jeremy immediately dropped the rag and bucket, moving to sit beside Alex on the couch. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, not caring that his hands were still wet from mopping. Alex’s sobs were muffled against Jeremy’s chest, and all Jeremy could do was hold him, trying to be the anchor that Alex so desperately needed in that moment.
“Hey, hey... don’t think like that,” Jeremy whispered, his voice soft but firm. “You know that’s not true. You’re more than good enough.”
“But it doesn’t feel that way,” Alex choked out between sobs, his words raw with frustration and self-doubt. “I thought I was finally getting somewhere, Jer. I thought I’d made it. But I guess I wasn’t what they wanted after all; I’ll never be...”
Jeremy tightened his embrace, his heart aching for him. “Alex, this isn’t about your talent! You know how this industry works, it’s unpredictable. They make changes for reasons that have nothing to do with your abilities. You can’t take this as a reflection of who you are.”
Alex shook his head, the bitterness and disappointment still gnawing at him. “I don’t know how to stop feeling like a failure. I thought this was my shot.”
“It’s not your only shot,” Jeremy said, leaning back slightly so he could look into Alex’s eyes. “I know it feels like the end of the world right now, but it’s not. You’re going to get through this. And you’ll get another role, a better one. You just need to keep pushing forward. One step at time, okay?”
For the first time that evening, Alex managed a small, grateful smile. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “Thanks, Jer.”
Jeremy rubbed Alex's back, feeling the very particular tremor of silent sobs shivering through his friend. Though heavy with despair for Alex, Jeremy made sure that he didn't show it. He knew all too well: If they didn't start to make greater sacrifices and cement it a little, everything might just fly apart. What kind of danger it could be! Just enough earned from Jeremy's job in tutoring and various scholarships to scrape by, and yet here was a shocker, Alex had lost his job, an announcement that made them feel as if they were losing the ground beneath their feet.
While rubbing Alex's back, he drifted toward the stark truth they both had to face. Without steady income, they wouldn’t just their comforts, but their future as well. Dropping from college was no more distant an unlikelihood; it grew closer with each unpaid bill, each skipped meal, each sleepless night filled with just what tomorrow should bring. Such had it been for months: prepackaged foods, vitamins taken as a substitute... however far they'd tried to ignore it. Saved their whole sorrow on the farthest shelf. Thinking of it made Jeremy's heart shrink, but he meant not to lose himself. Not now. Alex needed him.
He could still hear his sister's concerned voice telling him to question whether he was eating enough and taking care of himself, as it were, just the previous day. And every time, Jeremy would say: “Yeah, yeah, I am fine. Don't bother about me”. But, in fact, that was a lie for the better part. There were days when the best he could manage were instant noodles, just to stretch out his dollar. He could never tell her, fearing it would place an additional burden on her, even though he had the proverbial hunger pangs while being in it.
Seated beside Alex now, the same heaviness landed in the pit of his stomach, working its dark spell upon him. In one moment, an added weight of guilt sat upon him. The uncertainty, the stress, the glaring need to meet-ups; all of that amounted to one latest admission-they were slowly eating him alive inside. But he could never let that show. He could never break down the way Alex did right now. He was going to be the strong one, the steady one. He had been everyone's emotional support, and that would not change now.
After Alex finally managed to calm down, the thought of leaving him alone to drown in his dark thoughts became unbearable for Jeremy. The pain of having missed out on his part in the production, along with the added pressure of uncertainty, showed itself in every sigh he let out. But Jeremy, the constant emotional anchor he was, knew he had to pull Alex away from this environment-the storm shipwrecking his mind.
“Alex... you know, if you want to come stay with me tonight at my parents' house, it could help a little,” began Jeremy, a light undertone of worry easing in on the invitation.
“What? No, no, I don’t want to be a bother to your parents. Or to you, really...”
Jeremy laughed jokingly, reveling in the thought of lightening the mood this way. “Pfff! You're no bother. I will be very sure they'll be excited to see you after a long absence. Come on! It'll be like those nights when we had sleepovers with Ashley as kids. What do you say?”
The trail of these nights of laughter that spark from Alex's brain eluded him, but being stuck in that present weighed him down, holding him in place. “Emm…I don’t know, Jer. Are you sure I won’t be interrupting quality time with your mom and dad?”
Jeremy squeezed Alex's shoulder as lightly as he could. By this act, he hoped could transfer the little strength he had left into a mercifully convenient gesture. “Not at all, just pack up your bag. You’ll thank me later.”
This new information hit Alex like a ton of bricks. He sighs, resigned, but exhausted from arguing with him. The strain of leaving the situation pushes him to move on. He heads to the bathroom, which shields him from the rest of the world for a few moments. The mirror showed him not only his body as he stripped, but also what he had always hidden. On his wrist, a semicolon tattoo, along with faded scars, marks of the battles he had silently waged against himself, which was why the bathroom had no lock. He looked into his own eyes and felt as if he was being judged; the pain was still with him despite all these years. Desperate, he turned away from the mirror and stepped straight into the warm shower, washing away the sweat and fatigue of the day. The steam enveloped him, but it couldn’t clear the dark clouds from his mind.
By the time he finished showering, Jeremy had already packed his bags and was sitting on the edge of the bed. His body language was rather relaxed, but his piercing gaze was fixed on Alex. Without a word, he offered a small smile. Alex calmly got dressed and continued packing. Although he was still a bit reluctant to go, Jeremy's persistent and constant encouragement brought out an unwanted excitement in him. At this point, they left the bedroom and got into Jeremy's car.
Once they were in the car, Jeremy tried to ease the silence, wanting to change the mood, “It'll be okay, you'll see. My parents will be happy to see you. And who knows, maybe we'll even watch an old movie like the good old days.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Alex smiled weakly. He may have ignored it, but Jeremy's attempt to keep him afloat didn't go unnoticed. With the roar of the engine behind them, the weight of the day still pressed down on him as they left the small, narrow space behind in favor of a spot that he hoped would provide him with a modicum of peace, if only temporarily.
Jeremy was driving, but the setting sunbathed him and everything in the car in soft streaks of pink and blue, as if a watercolor had splashed across the sky, but with an invisible paintbrush. Colors filtered through the car windows, their warm golden light caressing the bodies inside as the world, it seemed, held Alex tightly in silence, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Jeremy hummed the song on the radio, barely audible, his hands tapping the steering wheel in time to the music.
Alex looked at him, looking away from his phone and back at Jeremy, smiling, despite himself. Jeremy was certainly not a great singer, not by any objective standard. He couldn’t stay remotely in tune to save his life. All of that seemed irrelevant, too. He sang with such joy that his own happiness was almost contagious. Jeremy had always had that gift, the so-called afternoon cheer effect, where his gregarious personality and that wide, warm smile of his were enough to make anyone feel a little better. As they drove down the road, Alex felt the knot in his chest begin to loosen, at least a little.
They drove on in silence until they rounded the corner between the trees and saw a lovely house with gentle pastel hues nestled among them. The house, still and solid as an ancient fortress. From the outside, it appeared just as it had when Jeremy headed off to college, frozen in time like every day since he moved out, waiting for him.
Jeremy pulled up by the front door, and as he turned off his headlights, they cast long shadows across the porch. Well… He gave Alex a grin. “See? Old times…” he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car.
Alex also stepped outside, looking at the house. The fireplace was such a warm place that it filled his chest with longing for home and family. This place, this house, was the only place where he could truly be himself… away from his imposing father, away from his carefree mother. Very slowly, in the elongated shadows that came from Jeremy, he followed him to the front door while covering his fading scars with the sleeves and searching for some semblance of normality, despite the fallen dreams and broken smiles.
The door opened and a smiling woman stood in the doorway. “Surprise! Mom, it’s so good to see you.” Jeremy cried as he hugged his mother.
“Jeremy, how wonderful to see you! Te he extrañado tanto, tanto...” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “And look who I brought with me!” Jeremy said showing Alex.
Alex's mother’s eyes sparkled with happiness as she enveloped him in a bear hug that almost took his breath away. “Oh, Alex! It’s been ages! Look how much you’ve grown, chamaco!”
“It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Orwell,” he managed to say before she squeezed him even tighter.
“You two must be starving after that long drive. Come in, come in... I was just finishing up dinner.”
They entered the house and Alex was immediately overcome with a wave of nostalgia. Every corner of the place was filled with memories. The walls were covered in framed photographs of Jeremy’s childhood. There were pictures of Jeremy as a child, laughing with his sister Ashley, and even a few with Alex himself from his younger years. The house had the comforting scent of home-cooked meals, making it feel like a time capsule from his past. The soft, beloved furniture, the slightly faded wallpaper, the familiar creak of floorboards underfoot, and an oil painting of a majestic flowering tree. What was it called? Flamboyan, was it? Ceiba? Something like that… he couldn’t remember, but everything was just as he remembered it.
As they walked toward the dining room, they spotted Jeremy’s father balanced on a ladder, struggling with a light fixture above the table. The older man let out a grunt as he attempted to unscrew a bulb that seemed to be stuck.
“Dad, what are you doing up there?” Jeremy asked with a grin.
“Oh… Jeremy! It’s been so long. Well… I’m trying to fix this darn light,” his father replied. “It’s been flickering for days. Your mom keeps saying it’s bad luck.”
Jeremy laughed. “Need a hand? Or are you just enjoying the view from up there too much?”
His father shot him a playful glare. “Very funny. No, I think I’ve got it. But... who’s that behind you? Alex, is that you?”
Alex stepped forward, smiling a bit sheepishly. “Hi, Mr. Orwell. Yeah, it’s me. It’s been a while, isn’t?”
“Well, I’ll be damned! Look at you, all grown up,” Mr. Orwell exclaimed, climbing down from the ladder with surprising agility for his age. “I was wondering when you’d come by again. You really need to stop disappearing on us like that.”
“I’ll try,” Alex said while laughing, sensing the warmth in the man's voice.
Jeremy's mother called them to the table as she finished setting it, dishing out generous servings of food that made Alex's stomach rumble with anticipation. They all gathered around the old, slightly worn dining table, and for the first time in what felt like decades, Alex felt... at peace.
The meal was simple, but it looked delicious: roast chicken, mashed potatoes, rice and beans, and freshly baked bread. Jeremy's mother served each plate with care, ensuring everyone had more than enough. As Alex glanced around the table, he noticed the small smiles and the happiness in Jeremy's eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a lump form in his throat. It had been so long since he’d enjoyed a meal like this, surrounded by people who truly… cared.
Jeremy was unable to contain his emotions as they were eating. Gratitude washed over him as he cast a sideways look at Alex, who was eating silently. This was just the moment they needed to be together. A pause, a reminder that they didn't have to confront things by themselves.
Jeremy remarked, very quietly, “Pssst!... Hey,” just to Alex. “Didn’t I say this was a good call?”
Alex glanced up and offered him a genuine, tiny grin. Jeremy could tell he meant it for the first time in what felt like forever. After a pleasant conversation about trivial things and having enjoyed a dinner that was not bad at all, Jeremy and Alex got up from their chairs. In the middle of clearing away the dishes and cleaning up, Jeremy's phone suddenly rang. He jumped, startled, then reached over to grab it.
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice, tense and frustrated, crackled through the line. “Is this Jeremy? Jeremy Orwell?”
“Yes, that’s me. How can I help you ma’am?” he replied, glancing at the clock. It was late for a call.
“I’d like to make an appointment, I’ve read on internet that you are an experienced paranormal investigator, is that right? Because I need your help” the woman said, her voice almost desperate.
At that moment, Jeremy quietly slipped away from everyone, retreating to the hallway at the foot of the stairs. His parents had no idea what kind of work he was really involved in, and God help him if they ever found out. He made sure to put enough distance between himself and the others, ensuring no one could overhear what he was about to do.
“That’s correct. You must be the friend Professor Ashbourne told me about. Okay, when would you like the appointment?”
“As soon as possible please, maybe tonight? Things are getting serious; I don't even feel safe in my own home anymore.” The woman said with nervous energy.
Jeremy felt a chill run down his spine. He grabbed a pen and paper. “Okay, ma’am, let’s go over a few details. What’s your address?”
She gave him the details, explaining that she wouldn’t be home due to work but would leave the keys in the mailbox and an envelope with payment on the kitchen counter.
“Now, ma'am, can you give us a brief description of what is happening?”
“There’s something wrong with my house. I’ve been hearing footsteps at night, things moving on their own, and sometimes... I swear that I can hear someone whispering in the halls.”
“Well... we're almost ready, all that's left is the cost of the service. The visit would cost about four hundred dollars, you sure you can afford it, ma'am?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, there's no problem with that, I'd do anything to get out of this situation.” the woman let out a nervous chuckle “As I already mentioned, I'll leave the money on the kitchen counter. Thank you very much.”
“Thanks to you too, ma’am.”
After hanging up, Jeremy was so happy he thought his head was going to explode from the excitement; they had been saved once again! Jeremy peeked through the archway that divided the living room from the dining room, gesturing with his hands trying to get Alex's attention, who was wiping down the table with a rag.
“Alex... Alex... hey, Alex... come here.” Alex looked towards the strange noises coming from the hallway, only to see Jeremy grimacing and calling out his name. “What do you want?”
“Shut up and come here... I have something to tell you,” Jeremy said quietly, trying not to draw any more attention than necessary. Alex dropped the rag on the table and walked towards Jeremy, however, he quickly pulled him to a secluded spot.
Jeremy smiled, “Now listen, I got a call earlier. A woman wants us to check out her house. She’s been hearing strange noises, things moving around on their own... you know, classic haunted house stuff…”
Jeremy gave him a sympathetic look. “I know… but we need the money!”
Alex frowned, leaning back on his heels. “I don’t know, dude. We haven’t done that kind of thing since summer. I feel... rusty”Alex hesitated, staring down at the floor. Then he nodded slowly. “Okay, fine. But we must be careful.”
“Sure, the lady asked us to come today, so we’re gonna need the electromagnetic field meter, the digital recorde—"
“Wow, wow!... hold on, hold on,” Alex interrupted him “where the fuck are we going to get all that? And now?!”
“Ha! I'm always prepared, follow me...” Jeremy said with a smile as he took his keys from the key ring next to the front door. As they walked down the small stairs of the porch, Alex watched his partner closely, he was happier than usual, with energetic vibes overflowing. Upon reaching the car, Jeremy opened the trunk revealing all the necessary devices: the bulky EMF meter that would detect any electromagnetic fields, the digital recorder for capturing EVP (electronic voice phenomena), the thermal camera to spot any cold spots or strange heat signatures, and the motion detectors to place around the house.
Alex rolled his eyes but smiled. “You’re always so thorough. But that doesn't mean it's not too late, Jer. It's almost six thirty in the evening, this is not the time to do that kind of thing.”
“Well, I've already made the commitment, and I can't do it without my trusted partner, come on, we have a reputation to maintain… pretty please?”
Alex sighed but relented, after all, Jeremy was right, they needed that money badly. “Fine, you win, let’s see what’s really going on in that house,” he said.
“That’s the spirit! Okay… we have everything ready; we just need one little detail.” Jeremy gave Alex a signal to stay while he went to the house to tell his parents that they would be out for a couple of hours. He leaned his body out the front door of the house and yelled from the doorway. “Mom, Dad! Alex and I are going to the grocery store to buy some things and then rent a movie, do you want anything?”
“Are you leaving so fast again, mi amor? Well, we don't need anything... just don't come back so late!”
Jeremy sprinted toward the car; his face lit up with excitement. “Alex, hurry up!” he shouted, tossing the keys to him as he rushed toward the backseat. “You drive. We don’t have a second to waste. Come on, let's make the most of this!”
Alex barely caught the keys in mid-air, sliding into the driver’s seat and buckling his seatbelt. He glanced over at Jeremy while starting the engine. “Did you lie to your parents?” Alex asked, a mix of concern and curiosity in his voice. “You didn’t tell them about this job, did you?”
Jeremy let out a carefree laugh as he slammed the car door shut. “Ha! Trust me, it’s better if they don’t know,” he replied with a grin that hid a touch of nervousness. “If they knew, they wouldn’t let me step outside the house.”
Alex raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet. He knew Jeremy tended to act on impulse, and while that sometimes landed them in trouble, that same energy kept things exciting. “Well,” Alex muttered, turning the key and bringing the car to life, “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do! Trust me!” Jeremy said, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark that always showed up when something thrilling was about to happen. “This time, it’s gonna be different…”
The car's engine hummed softly as they inched through traffic and the rain began to rhythmically patter against the windshield. Jeremy sat in the backseat, hunched over the ‘Quantum Resonator,’ his fingers deftly adjusting the wiring and tightening loose screws. The device, nestled in a modified briefcase, was hooked up to a small antenna and connected to a pair of old, battered headphones.
Alex glanced back through the rearview mirror; eyebrows raised. “What’s that thing?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of anxiety.
Jeremy didn’t look up, his focus still on the Resonator. “This!” he said, tapping the briefcase, “is something I’ve been working on for the past year. It can detect and tune into the specific frequency of a soul.” He paused, looking up to meet Alex’s gaze in the mirror. “With this baby, we can pinpoint the location of an entity, not just detect its presence.”
Alex let out a low whistle. “Impressive, but a little creepy. You made this thing while you were alone?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Yeah, when I had too much time on my hands. You know, after classes, while you were working.” He looked back down at the device, affectionately patting it. “It’s kind of my magnum opus.”
Alex sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Jer, I need to tell you something. But I want you to promise you won’t get mad.”
Jeremy’s eyes narrowed playfully as he sat back, but there was an edge to his expression. “Okay... promise. Spill it.”
Alex took a deep breath, his eyes flickering between the road and the mirror. “I’ve been thinking, and... I’m not sure I want to keep doing this, its dangerous dude. We’ve been lucky so far. And now with that device in our hands…”
Jeremy's face twisted in shock. “What?! You're scared now? After everything we've been through, you want to back out! Alex, this device will make our lives easier.”
Alex winced, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Look, I’m just saying we need to be more careful. That gadget of yours” he pointed back toward the Resonator “you need to keep that under wraps. If anyone finds out about it—”
“Why?” Jeremy scoffed, hugging the briefcase closer. “This could revolutionize paranormal investigation. I’ve spent three years of research on this!”
“Or it could get us killed!” Alex shot back, his voice rising. “The government doesn’t play nice, Jeremy. If they find out this thing actually works, they’ll bury us six feet under and take it for themselves.”
“C’mon, you sound like a conspiracy theorist. I’m not going to go around announcing it to everyone.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Besides, the government probably spies on us through our phones anyway.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just... be smart, okay?”
Silence settled in the car as they continued toward their destination, the tension thickening with each passing minute. The street was eerily quiet, the only sound the rain pelting against the asphalt. They parked in a clearing of dirt and dust in front of a modest two-story house with a small porch. It looked like any other house; the strange thing was that it was in the middle of nowhere. There was something strange about it, something intimidating, as if the house foreshadowed their arrival.
“Do we have everything?” Alex asked, his voice hushed as if the house itself could hear them.
“Yeah,” Jeremy nodded, ticking off the items in his mind. “Flashlight, EMF reader, spirit box, and the Resonator. Enough to survive, I guess.”
They approached the front door, the sky darkening as evening fell. Jeremy rummaged through the mailbox, pulling out the key. “Bingo,” he whispered, holding it up triumphantly.
The inside of the house was dark and still, the air heavy with the scent of damp wood and something else, something faint and bitter that Jeremy couldn’t quite place. They moved methodically, setting up night-vision cameras in the living room and hallways. As Alex strolled through the dimly lit house, a dim glow coming from the kitchen caught his eye. Curious, he walked over and found a stack of homemade cupcakes neatly arranged on a two-tiered stand on the counter. Each cupcake was carefully decorated with whipped cream, drizzled with strawberry jam, and adorned with tiny flickering candles. The scene was oddly out of place, almost eerie in its presentation. Next to the cupcakes was a small, folded note with their names handwritten in a fancy script.
Opening it, a few bills slid out as Alex read the contents. It was a thank you letter, written in impeccable cursive.
“Aww… how thoughtful,” Jeremy said, his voice light as he picked up a cupcake. “Double reward!”
Alex hesitated, but eventually took one as well. He ran his finger through the frosting and tasted a tiny bit. Sticky. Too sticky. An unpleasant sensation ran down his esophagus. Something about it felt… off. He'd had bad experiences with his father's cupcakes before; They had tried to poison him many times. Disgusted, he wiped his fingers on a napkin and put the cupcake back on the table.
“Nuh, uh… I’m not eating that,” he muttered under his breath. Trusting strangers wasn't on his agenda that day, whether they're slimy or not, he wasn't willing to risk it for a sweet treat. They continued with the lights off, hoping the darkness would draw the spirit out of hiding.
Jeremy settled on the couch, laptop on his knees as he monitored the camera feeds. The minutes ticked by in silence. Five, ten, fifteen. Nothing. Jeremy’s frustration grew as he switched between camera angles, his eyes darting from screen to screen.
He switched on the Resonator, and the static buzzed to life in his ears. There was a presence here, he could feel it, but it was elusive. He adjusted the frequency, the static shifting into faint, ethereal whispers.
“Maybe this woman is a junkie who imagines things,” Alex murmured into his earpiece, his voice echoing softly in Jeremy’s earpiece.
“Shhh… Do you hear that?” Suddenly, a burst of static erupted from the Resonator, the device vibrating in Jeremy’s hands. At the same time, the distant crackle of a television filled the house, the sound coming from below. Jeremy’s heart skipped a beat. “It’s coming from the basement.”
“Yeah…” Alex’s voice was strained. “I’m going there…”
Jeremy stared at the screen as Alex walked down the stairs. The static grew louder, more insistent. Alex opened the door under the stairs, seeing a staircase leading into absolute darkness. Far below, the flickering light of the television cast eerie shadows in the hallway.
“I see it,” Alex whispered, his silhouette framed in the doorway. Any sane person wouldn’t set foot in there, of course. But when was that an obstacle to curiosity? He stepped inside, and Jeremy watched as he scanned the room with his flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness.
The television was against the wall, the screen filled with static. The sound was deafening. Alex cautiously approached, reaching out a hand to turn it off, but the moment he touched the dial, the static changed to a distorted lullaby. The tune was cloyingly sweet, the kind that should lull a child to sleep, but it only served to send shivers down Alex’s spine.
“Alex, do you see anything?” Jeremy asked.
“No, nothing,” Alex said, looking around the room. “Just—"
“Tell me… Alex…” Jeremy interrupted “if you could choose, how would you like to die? Stabbed or with your guts out maybe?”
“Jeremy, stop it, this isn’t funny!” However, at that moment the voice started to chuckle, it was something evil, impure. “Oh! How about bleeding out, though that wouldn't be fun...”
“Jer? Please stop…” Apparently, it wasn't his best friend he had been talking to all this time. Alex took off the headset, throwing it to the floor, hoping to silence the voice, but it persisted, echoing throughout the four walls. Before he could react, the door slammed shut behind him with a thunderous crash, the sound echoing throughout the house. Jeremy jumped off the couch, the laptop almost falling to the floor.
“Alex! What the hell is going on?”
“I’m locked in! Jeremy, get me out of here!” Alex’s voice sounded panicked, his fists pounding against the door.
Jeremy ran to the door, his heart pounding in his ears. He threw his shoulder against it, the wood creaking under his weight but nothing, he threw a chair against it, but it didn’t budge an inch.
“Jeremy, please!” Alex’s voice cracked, and Jeremy could hear the raw terror in his friend’s words.
“I’m trying! It’s stuck!”
Inside the room, the television flickered on, and Alex turned around, his back pressed against the door. A figure stood in the corner, just out of reach of the light. It was blurry, like a corrupted image on a broken screen. Its eyes glowed faintly, and a grotesque smile spread across its face, as if its mouth had been cut off and sewn together from ear to ear.
“Jeremy…” Alex whimpered, tears streaming down his face. “Open the door, open the damn door! There’s something here…”
“I’m sorry Alex…” Jeremy said, giving up, leaving him behind.
The figure moved forward, steps slow and deliberate. The lullaby grew louder, a discordant melody that made Alex’s head spin. His back slid down the door as his legs gave way, his entire body shaking.
“Please, Jeremy, please… don’t let me die here…” he sobbed, curling into himself, eyes squeezed shut. The creature loomed over him, its breath hot and stale against his skin. The last thing Alex saw were its eyes, cold and empty, before it lunged.
A bloodcurdling scream rippled through the house, followed by a sickening creak. Jeremy staggered back, his hands shaking as he searched for the exit door. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. He turned and ran out of the house, the scream still ringing in his ears.
He reached the car and jumped in; his hands slick with sweat as he jammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared and he sped away from the curb, tires skidding on the wet pavement. He glanced in the rearview mirror and his heart stopped.
The creature stood on the porch, its eyes glowing in the darkness. Jeremy floored the accelerator, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to get away.
The lights of a familiar theme park loomed before him and he swerved, skidding into the parking lot. He drove to the top floor, breathing heavily. He parked in the far corner, hidden in the shadows. His hands shook as he climbed into the backseat, huddled together, his mind racing. He had no phone, cut off from any help, all he could do was pray.
He pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block out the sound of Alex's screams, but they were burned into his memory. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to fade away like dust.
“Jeremy...” a voice whispered, and his eyes snapped open. The car was empty, but he could feel a presence, cold and oppressive, filling the space.
“Jeremy...” he heard the voice again, closer this time, echoing through the parking lot.
He staggered back, his back against the door as his eyes darted around in search of the source. A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision, and he spun around, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Why did you leave him, Jeremy?” the voice whispered, and he saw Alex standing outside the car, but that wasn’t Alex. It looked like a fully-fledged person except its eyes were sunken, its skin was pale, and it wore an inhuman smile. Blood dripped from its mouth, pooling at its feet.
“I'm... I'm sorry,” Jeremy said in a choked voice, barely a whisper. “I didn't mean to...”
“Liar! you know that’s not true,” the voice was now a low growl, full of sorrow and rage. He pressed his face against the window, his eyes burning into Jeremy's “But don't worry, the same will happen to you...”
The entity ripped off one of the windshield wipers, threw open the car door, and slammed him against the windows. Jeremy screamed into an empty parking lot, where no soul could come to his aid. He gasped, gasping for air as he looked up, his vision blurring. The creature loomed over him; its mouth stretched into that horrible, twisted grin.
“Please...” Jeremy sobbed, his hands clawing at the seat of the car, but the creature didn't care. It lifted the wiper, stabbing it multiple times into his body, tearing him apart piece by piece. The pain was indescribable, a white-hot agony that consumed him as the creature tore at him, ripping his skin, breaking his bones. His muffled screams echoed through the empty garage, as he slowly drowned in his own blood.
And then, as his vision faded, he heard it. The lullaby, along with a male voice. The melody, soft and sweet, a grotesque parody of comfort as the darkness swallowed him whole.