It is a beggining of the story I am writing at the moment, it is a tale of a usual silent type who comes across a book. His life is bound to change as the book holds more knowledge than he would like to have, and power than he would ever imagine.
Chapter 1: Amidst the ruins.
The day became heavy as I finished my daily shift back at the office, the day has passed in a sluggish manner, making me want to go home even more. I need to admit it, I hate my job, my boss is a self-centred tyrant and the paperwork is the not the most adventurous. Quite opposite, it is one of the most boring jobs in the whole wide world, except occasional breakdowns of the printer. God, how many times I was forced to fix that irritating machine. Pay is pay though and it's not a small one, I even get small perks such as a free vacation when sent to delegations across the globe, of course I get sent there to get a job done, but I would also get some time to explore the area. Also, if anything ever goes bad, I get to blame it on the other departments, being employed as a Human Resources department manager. Yeah, being one of many gives me that privilege, because we are meant to work like "cogs in a clockwork" as my overlord I am forced to call 'Carl' says. He says we are all part of a great thing, a great family. Personally I would prefer just getting the job done go home, but if I want to receive that Christmas bonus I better keep the facade up. As the bus arrives at a station by the liquor shop I realize it time I step off the bus and head to the huge flat a small walk further. The street I have chosen to live by is a quite one, there are hardly any problems ever, except Mrs.Jenkins who has died in the fire in the opposite flat, which was only yesterday. I remember the heat that it was creating, and the brief screams of agony of Mrs.Jenkins as flames have digested. The fire was terrible, the whole western part of the city's fire crew was up here trying to extinguish of whatever was left of the flat. Good thing the family upstairs has been out the house that day, or the fire would have claimed more than just their belongings. But its Mrs.Jenkins I feel sorry for most. Her husband has died of lung cancer about a year ago, due to the amount of cigarettes he has smoked, she loved him very much apparently. Personally I thought he was a right nut, he somehow always smelt of sulphur, suggesting he was a chemist of sort. He had a very rough character, probably like many men from that age of World war two; being very cold and snappy at times. I think of an occasion when I was picking my grocery back at the local supermarket, when I saw him arguing at top of his voice with the female cashier. Poor gal, she was only trying to offer him life insurance package for senior people along with his groceries, he must have taken it as an insult. Now the ruins of the apartment sit smouldering in-between two other flats, looking more like a piece of charcoal rather somewhere where people could actually live. Nevertheless it was a weird accident, I remember seeing strange multicolour lights coming out of the apartment's windows in middle of nights. As I looked a final time at the ruins I have realised something shining in the corner, thought of discarding the idea at first, but too curious too go back. I have went inside the black rubble, following the weird light, it led me into a hall just further inside from the sitting room. There I have realised the shining light has disappeared, just vanished in front of my eyes. The room I was led into was slightly more intact than the rest of the house, with nearly the full set of walls still standing. There was nothing interesting in the room except a set of stairs leading down, into the dark basement. Curiosity has taken over my commons sense as I walked down those stairs, praying they would not snap under my weight. The basement was completely dark, except some brief light coming out of the small basement window. I took out my keys and switched on the little flashlight that was clipped to the key-ring. I was naively looking for the light switch, hoping I would not only find but also it was burned enough for it to work. As I walked across the larger than I thought basement I have kicked a couple of wood pieces that have fallen off the ceiling during the fire and a couple of other things. I have also heard shuffling of the rats and I hoped I would not walk into a huge spider web. Curiosity has pushed me forward although my mind has screamed for me to turn back and forget about the whole thing. I do not know what has driven me that day, was it my stupidity or some sort of destiny. I have come upon a still intact wooden door. Although I could see hardly anything in the dark and little light my key-ring flashlight was giving, I observed some strange markings on the wooden door. The markings, which seemed to be more like runes, were formed in a perfect circle on the door. pushed the handle to expect that the door was locked, so I could finally go back home. The door was unlocked and I walked right inside. This room seemed much smaller, nevertheless it was spacey as you could fit at least a whole bar and a dance floor. First thing that has attracted my attention was the pedestal in the middle of the room, like those you would get in churches and some high end catholic schools. I have walked closer to it and felt an un-justified shiver on my back. There was a book lying on the pedestal. Somehow I felt, instinctively that it was what I have come here for, this single book. It was a leather covered grimoire and studded with some sort of metal, in the middle of the book there was a symbol, but it was hardly legimate. I have picked up the book, and put it into my business bag. More cold shivers have ran across my back as I looked around anxiously and ran backwards where I have come from. Counting every piece of wood on the floor as I ran across the basement, trying not to trip over. I do not know why I was running, but my instincts told me to get out of there for some reason. Then I have realised that my face was already covered in spider web, much to my sarcastic demise. As I heard weird noises behind me, some sort of disfigured cackling and shuffling, I started to panic. I have ran up the detoriated stairs, again hoping they won't break on my weight or that I won't slip on them. I ran like the wind across the hall and stood outside the ruins of the flat, completely out of breath. I gave the building a last glance, making sure nothing followed me. I finally had the chance of looking upon the object I have recovered from the weird basement. The book was in a cover of a dark brown leather that had a weird touch to it. It was studded in some sort of dark iron, around the edges to protect them. The symbol in the middle however was the thing that disturbed me. It was a symbol of an open eye, with an upside down star in the background, it was covered with symbols I could not understand, probably more runes of sort. It seemed as if it was some sort of occult symbol.
"What the hell?" Were the first words I could mutter out of the whole situation.
As I looked up I realised what I have come here for in the first place, before the whole incident, I was going home. I placed the disturbing book back into my business bag and walked away from the scene heading back to my apartment. I have checked my mail box, to find nothing more than a couple of advertisements, pizza mostly. I sometimes swear they have nothing else to do but to fill my mailbox with this nonsense. I have unlocked the front door, with some trouble as I could never remember the right key. As I looked with hope towards the elevator I have observed a little piece of paper stuck on the elevator door saying 'Out of order', much to my annoyance. After sighing loudly I have turned right to the stairs and started climbing. Living on the seventh level of the flat had some benefits and of course, drawbacks; I had to climb at least a thousand steps, before I saw the doors of my apartment. Breathing heavily I opened my apartment door and walked in, finally home. I placed my set of keys on the bowl next to the door, locking it just before, and headed to the kitchen. Living on your own had some benefits, my fridge was full the way I like it. Probably too much, considering I have put on weight lately. I picked up a couple of things from the fridge and started cooking today's meal. Due to the fact I was in a bit of melancholy I have decided to make some good old carbonara, the way my aunt would always make it with spinach and chicken. As I looked around I realised my house is nearly perfectly clean, I considered that another benefit of living alone. No mess ever gets made or its dealt with straight away. My home though felt, well, empty and eating my carbonara alone wasn't as exciting as it would be with someone I could talk to. Sometimes I ask myself, why haven't I asked Rebekah to move in yet. She works as a journalist in the local newspaper 'Top news' , I was once sent there as part of our PR project for the company. We have been dating ever since, its now over a year I believe. When I met her I quickly became interested in her, she was the sweetest person I have ever met. Always had her morale at the high standard and always had a subject to talk about. She was just someone who made me happy at the end of the day. She would always listen to my problems and worries, and understand them. I remember once we lied on the grass in the nearby park, just watching clouds fly past. We were all cuddled up and talking of things big and small, she would always listen to what I have to hear. I wouldn't trust anyone else, so why haven't I asked her about it yet? She doesn't live with anyone else, no family, no anyone, so why the hell am I stuck here alone? As I looked up at the kitchen clock I realised it is already ten past ten and it would be best if I headed to bed soon. Just going to check messages on the phone, before I go to slumber. Mostly advertisements, but I listened to a message from my boss saying that I have to stay in longer tomorrow because I have forgotten to do a couple of new recruitment sheets. When he means a couple, it normally means at least two huge stacks of them. That's it, I am taking the vacation he owes me for so long. From tomorrow, for at least two weeks and if he doesn't like it then he can go to hell. This will give me enough time to pop the question and hopefully help her move in, when she says yes. I smiled to myself, maybe this day isn't so lost after all. After a quick shower I entered my bedroom, with a long yawn along the way. My bedroom was equipped with a double bed, rather than a single bed. I have laid down on the bed and turned to the inside of the bed and looked at the other pillow on the other side. Hopefully that empty space would be filled soon. Hopefully. After an hour of moving about in the bed I have finally gave into the sleep and eventually started snoring, loudly.
I remember placing my bag on the floor by the door, forgetting completely about the book that I have found in the same day. What I didn't know was that the book glowed in a flame like light, and removed itself from the said bag as I was deep asleep. Placing itself on the night-table next to me, the symbol's eye glowing in the weird light. I was soon to find out what knowledge the book has been holding, and it certainly was not pleasant.
I suddenly opened my eyes to see that it is still quite dark, more than that actually. It was still deep night and the moon was shinning dimly through my apartment window, with a slight tinge of red coming from the nearby bar, which had some red neon signs out the front. It gave the room a very gloomy look which caused tingles to run across my spine. The clock on my bedroom wall ticked in a slow rhythm, its ticking somehow comforted me, as I looked upon it was showing exactly 3 o'clock. I remember once reading about this dreaming technique to check whether the person was actually awake. I turned my head away and turned it back again toward the clock, gladly I realised the time on the clock has not changed which indicates that I am not dreaming. My comfort did not last long as in front of my very eyes the clock's arms started moving and spun around frantically on the shield. I started to doubt whether I was awake, or if it was a dream or a deep nightmare. I turned my head toward the book that was now sitting peacefully on my night table, I kept on reminding myself that this is not where I have left it. Something was wrong, as when I stared at the book I realised its outline started to move around, shifting slightly around the borders; as if the book's shadow was alive. As my hand reached slowly toward the book the shadow suddenly leaped at me with black tendrils, , I fought as hard as I could but the force was too strong and I succumbed to it. The shadows blackened my vision and pulled me inside, I heard voices inside, promises of great power and a future. A very dark future.