Author Skills | Fiction | Writing Prompts | Fantasy

Whispers of a Hidden Realm: The Grimoire.

A fiction story

From the bench at the library bus stop, Zain glanced back at the library building, its dark windows reflecting the street lamps. It was no doubt deserted now — by rights, he shouldn’t have made it inside before closing time.

But how could he not have acted on the note that he’d received?

Pulling it from his pocket, Zain glanced down and narrowed his eyes, reading the strange haiku-like phrases for perhaps the tenth time:

Magic portals and travelers;

do right and create order;

sever incoming light;

voracious echoes respond.

- Prof W

Zain was certain that the note had come from Professor Wright, a faculty member at his college. No, more: a mentor to him over the past year on his metaphysics course.

Certainly, it was a strange way for one of the academics to contact their grad students. Stranger still was that Professor Wright had gone missing two weeks before the note arrived. The police had been all over campus. Students had been interviewed. Nobody seemed to know where the professor was.

So, how had the man now managed to send out this note? Why had he done so? And what did the cryptic message mean?

Zain wasn’t the only one to be alerted, he knew, for his roommate Jessie had received exactly the same note; both identical slips of paper posted through the door of their shared student apartment just an hour earlier.

Unlike Zain, Jessie had shrugged and binned the slip of paper immediately. Zain, however, wanted answers. He was close to failing his course, and Wright had been the only professor willing to speak up for him. He needed the professor to return, and, well… he couldn’t deny that he now felt a sense of loyalty, of duty.

Plus — Zain loved a riddle. He could immediately see that this was some kind of puzzle to be solved. And twenty minutes later, he believed he had cracked it: the first letters of the latter phrases spelled out the name of a writer that the professor had frequently referred to.

And while it was harder to be certain about the ‘Magic portals and travelers’ line, it also occurred to Zain that the phrase shared the same initials as one of the writer’s works:

Mastering Probability and Truth

- Draco Silver

A book that he was now holding.

Still seated on the bench, Zain scratched the dark stubble on his chin as he looked at the scarred leather cover. The tome looked ancient — possibly unique. If so, then he must have been the first to solve the riddle, before anyone else had come to borrow the book.

Or at least the first to act.

It remained unclear why the book was important, but if it contained a clue that could explain the professor’s disappearance, then Zain intended to find it. After all, Professor Wright was the one teacher that appeared to give a damn about him.

Zain glanced once more at the note, and then thrust the scrap of paper back into his jacket pocket. Although it had helped him to this stage of the uncanny treasure hunt, he couldn’t help but feel that it might yet have more secrets. Another layer to the puzzle, one that would only emerge when he got the book home and looked through it.

A skinny white cat crossed the sidewalk in front of him, and Zain leaned forward, stroking the animal’s back as it passed by. He recognized the cat as a regular visitor to campus. It was old-looking, with rips to its ears and fur that was patchy in places, and suggested many fights in its past. “Hello there, old warrior,” said Zain. “Good to see you again.”

In response, the cat meowed, then circled Zain’s legs once and rubbed its side against his jeans. He leaned down to stroke it again, but then — at the sound of a tin can being kicked along the street — it dashed off in the direction of the library building.

Zain looked up. A small group of youths were approaching — five young men just a couple dozen yards away. There was still no sign of his bus.

“Hey nerd,” yelled one of the guys who were approaching. “You a student?”

“Mm-hmm,” Zain responded, narrowing his eyes, and feeling his heart beat faster.

“You talking to that cat?” jeered another.

“Hey student — what book you got there?” said the first one to speak — a tall, muscular man with a dark beard, who was wearing a tight black t-shirt and jeans.

“Who’s this loser!” called out a third one from the back.

Zain slowly stood up from the bench at the bus stop. Something told him that this gang wasn’t going to walk past without getting some amusement at his expense.

He turned and began to move off in the other direction, but their footsteps sounded loud in his ears. And then the voice rang out again — the first of the gang to speak to him. “Where you going, nerd?” called out the man. “It’s rude to walk away. Come here! We’re not done with you.”

With the book by Draco Silver tucked firmly beneath his left arm, Zain began to run.

He dodged down the next side street and crossed a road where a taxi was approaching, racing across onto the wide grassy verge beyond. He half-turned, to see if they were still close…

…only to see that the bearded thug was almost on top of him. Zain felt a punch which hit his shoulder and sent him staggering across the grass toward a concrete office building beyond. He managed to keep his feet, still clutching the book tightly, now holding it in both hands in front of him.

The bearded man stepped closer, sneering and raising a fist. The rest of the gang was only a few yards away, making their way across the road. Zain knew that in moments, they might all be kicking all hell out of him. He stepped back again, feeling the edge of the office building at his back.

As the lead thug punched out again, Zain, acting on instinct, held the mysterious book like a shield — only for the man’s bare and hairy arm to entirely disappear inside the book, as if it wasn’t there.

“What the…” began the bearded man. But his words were cut short and replaced with a scream.

As Zain pulled away and stumbled off to one side, still clutching the precious book, it took him a moment to realize what had just happened. The bearded thug in the dark t-shirt was clutching at the stump of his arm, blood spurting through the fingers of his other hand. The other half of his right arm had somehow vanished in the book by Draco Silver, and been detached completely when Zain scrambled away.

Leaving only a stump on the man’s torso, now gushing blood…

Zain turned again and began to sprint down the street, the man’s agonized screams echoing in his ears. As he ran, he looked down at the tome in his hands. It still looked like a harmless, leather-bound book.

Thanks for reading! Did you enjoy this story? Would you like to read more? If so, I’m happy to oblige!! 📚 Any feedback is very welcome.

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Added: LINK TO PART 2 BELOW