Chapter 6

If you missed Chapter 5 you can read it here.

I wandered through the rest of the day at school in an almost dream like stupor.  Never before in my entire life had a dream felt so real.  Was it a dream?  If it was how did I explain the bite on my leg?

I decided to skip 4rth period for many, many reasons, and instead went to the library.  I spent the hour reading everything I could find on dreams, meanings, interpretations, etc. Some of what I read was really scary.

One author theorized that our dreams could even manifest in reality.  Could that explain the bite on my leg?

When school was over I walked home.  Step by step I took everything in.  Normally I would listen to music.  Daisily drifting along, not really paying attention to my surroundings. Not today.  Today I noticed every rock, every tree, the way Mrs. Waterman pranced around her house in her underwear oblivious to the fact that her blinds were open.  Everything.

When I got home a feeling of both excitement and dread started to creep up from the pit of my stomach.  Twisting and turning my emotions into knots like a pair of headphones that have sat at the bottom of your bag for weeks.

I stood there, in front of my house staring at the front door.  Should I go in?  Of course I should go in.  Why wouldn’t I go in?  It was my house afterall.  But standing there, looking at it, something felt wrong.  Something wasn’t right.

I shook my head, steadied myself and walked up to the front door.  This was silly.  It was just a dream.  A really powerful, confusing, emotionally scary dream, but it was still just a dream!

I had almost gotten myself under control when I looked down at the door handle, and for the first time noticed that the front door to my house was slightly ajar.

I froze, not daring to move.  It wasn’t until my brain and body started screaming for oxygen that I realized I had been holding my breath.

With a gasping breath I somewhat steadied myself and pushed open the front door.

My home was exactly the way I remembered it.  Clean, put together, and all the furniture in the right place.

I walked inside and called out to see if anyone was home.  The house remained unsettlingly quiet.

Carefully I crept into the kitchen looking around.  Was someone suppose to be home? What time would mom be getting back from picking up my sister from ballet?

I sat down at the kitchen table and took a heavy breath.

That is when I noticed the envelope sitting on the table with my name on it.  It was an old envelope weathered and yellow.  My name was written on the front in what could have only been a calligraphy pen of some sort.  Given the droplets of ink it might have even been done with an old ink and quill set.  Picking it up and turning it over I noticed a crimson wax seal.  I could make out the shape of a Y pressed deeply into the wax.

What the hell was this?

I broke the wax seal and pulled out a piece of weathered old parchment.  The handwriting was written in the same beautiful calligraphy as my name on the front of the envelop.

It read “Declan, by the time you read this you will have returned to your own time.  I am sure you are confused, and I am sorry for that.  Events are in motion, and I don’t know why but YOU are at the center of them.

iStock_000012456491SmallIf you are reading this at the time and place I think you are the world is coming close to an almost catastrophic event.  One that will change everything.  You have been given a small glimpse of what is to come.

I am still working out how, but it seems that you may be able to stop it, or at least warn people it’s coming.  However that time has not yet come.  You need to let events unfold naturally, and some of them are going to be very hard for you to get through.  I’m sorry for that.  There is no other way around it.

In a few short hours I believe you will join me here, again.  I am making preparations to show you the things you need to know.  When it happens please follow my instructions this time.  Our time together is very short and very brief.

In the meantime make yourself a sandwich.  Enjoy your time with family.  We will talk soon.

Sloane

P.S. Sorry about the dog bite, but I had to wake you up before the sun came up.”

 

 

Chapter 3

30036a1433ecddeec1ed73b21c63e767Read chapter two HERE

Those piercing purple pupils bored into mine, I couldn’t tear my gaze away.

“Declan”

The moment she spoke I felt my blood run cold. Her voice echoed through the silence, but there was something more. Her voice sounded like gravel and dust, yet somehow ethereal.

I tasted blood in my mouth. I’d bitten through my cheek. But the metallic iron taste woke me up.

I didn’t wait for one more second. I didn’t even think. I just turned and ran.

I ran down the stairs, across the hall, and out the door. And I didn’t stop there. I kept running.

It wasn’t until I reached the end of my street that I dared glance over my shoulder. No one was following me. The street behind me was as run down as the rest of the town, but empty.

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I turned the corner a hurtled right into something, or more appropriately, someone.

I screamed. Like a little girl. I couldn’t help it. My nerves were shot. I screamed until I ran out of air. Then

I took a deep breath, and kept right on screaming. Like I said, it had not been a good day.

“Woah, kid, it’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I looked up into the face of the large man standing in front of me, and my strangling scream turned into laughter. Crazed, relieved, borderline psychotic laughter.

The man standing in front of me did not belong in this environment. He wore a neon yellow and turquoise Hawaiian shirt, green denim pants, and Crocs. Purple Crocs. His hair was an unnatural shade of red.

The man squinted his eyes and tilted his head to one side. I don’t think he knew how to react to my insanity.

“You laughing at my clothes kid?” He said, sounding stern, yet amused.

“I’m sorry, It’s just, if you knew how my day was going, you’d understand.”

He nodded, seeming to accept my weak explanation.

“What’s your name kid?” He asked.

“Declan.”

“Well Declan, we better get going, the sun’s about to come up, and we don’t want to be caught out here when it does.”

He started walked down the cracked street, away from my house. He moved so quickly I had to jog to keep up.

“Hey, hey.” I hollered at him but he didn’t stop.

“Who are you anyway? What is going on?”

He stopped then. He sighed and ran his fingers through his crimson hair.

“Listen Declan, I know who you are. And I can explain everything but it’ll take too long to explain here.

We need to get to safety, away from the sun.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me your name and who you are.”

Chapter One

What would you do if you woke up in history class and realized that the whole town had beeen abandoned

and it looks like it has been for hundreds of years…

 

My name is Declan Peterson. I’m 18 years old, well, I think I’m 18. That’s how old I was when all of this started. Let me back up and explain. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear, the following story is true.

It all happened on the last day of school before Christmas break, my senior year of high school.

The day started out pretty normal. My mom banging on my bedroom door, hollering something about me being late for school and that if I wasn’t ready to leave in ten minutes I’d have to walk. She always threatened that, but its 0 weather out, she‘d never follow through.

School was uneventful. My right arm started itching pretty bad during math class. I pulled up my sleeve and noticed I had two weird bug bites on my arm. They were side by side, and super swollen. It seemed a little odd, it gets so cold in Maine in the middle of December that bugs are practically extinct.

Maybe I got bed bugs or something.

But I don’t have bites anywhere but my wrist, which is weird.

History class is where it all went down. Mr. Larkin was lecturing on the black plague. I don’t know why it takes a whole class. People died. It was scary. I didn’t really care. He was so old that he probably lived through the actually black plague.

Well, at some point during class I nodded off, which I did, at least 3 times a week in that class.

No matter how many times I fell asleep, I always woke up when the bell rang, but apparently this time I didn’t.

When I woke up, the lights were off, the room was empty, and it was dark outside, which really irked me. Was Mr. Larkin really that annoyed that I slept through his class that he just left me there after everyone went home? That’s a low blow Mr. Larkin, a really low blow.

This is where things got really weird. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed some things in the room looked askew. The white board was half hanging off the wall, and several desks were over turned.

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I got up to turn on the light to see what had happened, but the light wouldn’t turn on. What is going on?

I zipped up my coat and headed for home. As soon as I walked outside, I knew something was wrong. It wasn’t cold. It was hot. And it’s never really hot in Maine. It gets warm, but not hot.

The bites on my arms are itching again, but when I glance at my arm, the bites aren’t even there anymore.

I start walking home and everything is silent. There’s no breeze rustling the leaves of the trees. There’s nothing. Just silence.

But it gets worse. As I pass the town square, the buildings look completely abandoned. Like no one had been there in years and years. Rooves were caved in and trees were growing through the holes. The pavement was cracked in places and completely overgrown in others. I have no idea what happened here. I just slept through history class, how could so much have happened in such a short time? How long was I really asleep?

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I get back to my house, and it looks like the rest of the town. Windows were shattered, the lawn was overgrown, and the roof had holes in it. Both our cars are there, but they’re covered in rust and vines.

Our mailbox was missing the box part, leaving just a wooden post at the end of the driveway.

I have to pull away several long thorny vines from the doorway just to get myself into the house.

“Mom? Dad?” I whisper into the darkness. I don’t know why I felt the need to whisper, but after all the silence, anything louder feels off wrong.

But it’s not silent in my house. I hear a rustling from upstairs. There’s someone in my room. I can hear them pacing, their steps are muffled, but every few steps the floor creaks. I try the light switch by the front door, but as expected, nothing happens.

I drop my bag on the dusty floor and move toward the stairs.

“Mom?” I’m still whispering. Something is off. More off than it already was. I don’t feel good about this.

I didn’t encounter another living soul my entire walk home, but there’s someone in my room. It doesn’t make sense.

I stop outside my door, hand on the knob. I take a deep breath. I must be insane for going in here. Every horror movie I see ends with the characters dying after going in the creepy room. But I need to know what is going on here and something tells me the answer lies behind that door.

I open the door, slowly. The hinges scream like a banshee in labor, they never did that before.

I peer into the darkness and see a slight figure standing in the middle of the room. I was sure it was a woman, she wore a long dress but I couldn’t make out much more. She moves slightly.

“Mom?” I ask one more time. But it wasn’t my mom.

Read Chapter Two HERE