《Untitled Journal – How Reality Meets Fantasy》


 Chapter 1.

    Have fun.


    Have fun.


    How could I possibly enjoy myself while hauling propane canisters, bundled up so tightly I might as well have been the Michelin Man? But there was no other way¡ªI needed every layer. Sweatpants under jeans, two sweaters, and a leather jacket so stiff it felt like armor. Gloves duct-taped at the sleeves kept my hands safe, and a motorcycle helmet completed the ensemble, fogging with each strained breath


    Was I hot? Yes.


    But was I protected from bites? Also yes.


    I never really understood why in zombie movies the characters didn¡¯t just wear a bit more clothes. Like, have you ever tried to bite through a leather jacket? Impossible. I tried, as a test of course.


    I was not the only one dressed ridiculously though, my brother also made a great impression of a sumo wrestler.


    ¡°You think three is enough and we¡¯ll leave the rest of the canisters for others? Just in case.¡±


    He answered without looking away from the road.


    ¡°Yeah¡±


    A man of many words.


    But anyway. Now that the canisters were loaded into the car, it was time to move on to our next stop. Sliding into the passenger seat I reached for the charger in the cigarette lighter and plugged it back in my phone. As the engine rumbled to life, the radio turned on with a crackle.


    ¡°¡­and again, curfew remains in effect. Authorities advise against any unprotected travel, especially through the east side of Belford due to recent ¡®high activity¡¯¡­¡± The voice pauses. ¡°If you are listening to this broadcast, we encourage community spirit and preservation of resources. Please remember, avoid encounters, stay silent, and ration supplies¡­¡±


    High activity my ass. They¡¯re a bit late with the announcement. Last couple of days the streets were filled with zombies, couldn¡¯t get anywhere with the car, had to turn back home. Now suddenly this is the first day in a while that the streets are so empty.


    We keep on driving, the windows were rolled down, but there wasn¡¯t a single sound from the outside¡ªjust an unnatural silence that seemed to lean in closer the further we went. The streetlamps, long dead, loomed like watchful figures under the overcast sky. A shambling corpse or two could be spotted on side streets.


    ¡°Citizens are also reminded to steer clear of wooded areas¡ªnew sightings of wolf-like creatures with¡­distinctly human eyes have been confirmed. Lastly, any encounters with doors that weren¡¯t there before¡ªespecially those appearing in walls of familiar buildings¡ªshould be avoided at all costs.¡±


    The announcements done, next up was Lady Gaga¡¯s Edge of Glory, and to this amazing piece of pop music we rolled up to the local ShopSmart store with, thankfully, not a zombie in sight. I wonder if they are migratory? Is that the right word? Some days there are loads of them, and some, like today, we barely see any while driving through.


    I glanced over at my brother, who looked about as thrilled as I did. He adjusted his helmet and muttered, ¡°I¡¯ll go in this time, you get the rope.¡±


    Doing exactly so, I followed him out of the relic of a car. Hey, it might be old with the radio being the most advanced electronic inside of it, but it has never failed us.


    Marcus got done tying one end of the rope around his waist as I held the rest of the bundle in my hands.


    The doors whirred open as if they¡¯d been waiting for us. How this shop still had electricity will remain a mystery.


    A blast of stale, almost clinical air hit my face. Inside, the fluorescent lights buzzed ominously, lighting up towering shelves that stretched further back than they should have. It was a layout I didn¡¯t remember; I used to be able to walk right to the milk aisle with my eyes closed, but now the aisles twisted away into shadows.


    ¡°Good luck brother, remember, 10 minutes maximum and stick to the closest shelves.¡±


    After a quick salute which I returned, he went inside, the coil of rope steadily shortening in my hands with every step Marcus took deeper within. Eventually I lost sight of him around one of the corners of the aisles.


    This supermarket is just one of the many paranormal instances which have appeared in the world since a month ago, which is when everything got turned upside down. Suddenly without any warning at all various fairy tales, horror stories, supernatural beings, turned into a reality we now had to live with.


    What we had here was no ordinary supermarket, but a devious maze which would entrap any poor soul who wandered too far inside. Many got lucky, deciding not to go too far in after seeing the eerie and wholly new layout, after hearing wailing and faint scuffling noises in the distance. Who in their right mind would ever try to explore it after seeing aisles stretch out to the horizon? One unfortunate guy did.


    About a dozen days ago when the internet and electricity still worked¡ªI read in the neighbourhoods group chat that someone managed to find the exit only after a week of wandering inside. Thankfully he had plenty of food and water since the shelves somehow were always fully stocked, but he spent a good hour talking about shadows still shopping around without a single person to cast them and undead shambling after him. Feeling this aura around the store, I¡¯m inclined to believe him.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    What do I mean by aura? It¡¯s hard to describe. It¡¯s not just a color or a shimmer, though there is something faintly like that¡ªthe way heat rises off asphalt in summer, distorting the air. The colors are wrong, too, shifting between shades that don¡¯t have names, hues I can barely look at without feeling dizzy.


    My phone vibrates, the ten minutes are up.


    I tug the rope twice since he is still inside, and after a short but anxious moment I receive the three tugs back in confirmation. Less than a minute later I see him coming out, a full bag in each hand.


    He stumbled a bit as he emerged, blinking like he¡¯d just walked out of a dark theater into the blinding light of day. ¡°Got the goods,¡± he said, grinning, but it was thin. Even with his eyes half-hidden under the motorcycle helmet visor, I could tell he¡¯d seen something back there he didn¡¯t like.


    ¡°Lets get out of here then, time to go home¡±


    He gave a curt nod and tossed the bags into the backseat, and we both slid into the car.


    As I turned the key, the engine sputtered a couple of times, hesitating as if it, too, could feel the oppressive weight of whatever lurked in that store. For a second, I thought we might be stuck here, but then it roared to life, and I wasted no time slamming the gas.


    A minute later, Marcus finally spoke. ¡°There was an entire section for toys.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    He shook his head, staring out the window like he was trying to shake off the image. ¡°Not regular toys. Like, I saw these dolls just staring down from the top shelves. Their eyes followed me, man. And I swear one of them whispered something, but when I turned to look, it was gone.¡±


    ¡°Shit. Think the store¡¯s somehow getting worse?¡±


    ¡°Not sure, hard to tell at this point. Where else will we get food though? Gotta loot the store as often as possible and save what we can for winter. Winter is coming.¡± He said with a chuckle. And honestly, the reference got me to smile too.


    Winter was coming¡ªthat much was certain¡ªand with it, who knew what horrors the cold would draw from the depths of this warped new world.


    We hit the main road, listening to whatever song was playing on the radio as I watched the fading light bounce off the cracked asphalt. It used to be comforting¡ªdriving home from some errand, maybe stopping to grab a coffee and snacks on the way, passing a few other cars. Now it felt like we were driving across the back of some sleeping beast, just hoping it wouldn¡¯t wake up.


    ¡°Attention, citizens of Willowbrook and the surrounding area,¡± a gruff, no-nonsense voice announced. ¡°This is the National Guard. A temporary supply depot will be established at St. Michael¡¯s Church in two days, this thursday. Basic necessities, including food, water, fuel, and medical supplies, will be available. For everyone¡¯s safety, please follow all military orders and regulations.¡±


    The announcement came to a close, leaving a tense silence hanging in the car. Up until the previously playing song resumed, the contrast would have normally brought me to laughter, but my mind stuck on the announcement.


    ¡°Think there are any chances of it turning into a permanent outpost? Something like that would be great, a sign that the government is actually doing something about all this I mean.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have a good answer, and I felt a pang of fear at the thought. I wanted to tell him it was just the first step of a plan the military has, that someone would fix this, that governments around the world must be scrambling for solutions. But deep down, I wasn¡¯t so sure. In a month, everything had changed, and the things we used to think of as mere stories¡ªghosts, monsters, eldritch horrors¡ªwere now lurking in places like our local supermarket.


    ¡°Maybe it will, maybe it will,¡± I said, trying to sound confident. ¡°I mean, people can adapt to anything, right? We¡¯ll find a way to deal with this.¡± But even as I said it, I felt the hollowness in my own words. What would adapting even mean in a world like this? Would we just keep going back to that haunted store, keep risking our lives for scraps, pretending it was normal?


    Dangit, driving through town and seeing how deserted the place is always puts me in a melancholic slump. Happy thoughts, Henry, happy thoughts.


    ¡°I feel like every time we go back in there, something¡­ notices us more, the shop, I mean. Like it¡¯s waiting for us to mess up so it can keep us.¡±


    Well, there go the happy thoughts, straight out the window.


    The idea hit me like a punch to the gut. It felt uncomfortably true. Every time we went back, it was like the place was learning us, like it was growing more familiar with us and drawing us in, piece by piece. But it wasn¡¯t just the supermarket. The whole world felt like that lately¡ªwatchful, patient, ready to swallow anyone who lingered too long in the wrong place. And each time I thought about it, a creeping dread slid down my spine. The feeling must be even worse for Marcus since he was the one going in the shop the last couple of times.


    ¡°Try not to dwell on it and take a little break. I¡¯ll go in next time, yeah? You¡¯ve just been in there a bit too long, it¡¯ll pass,¡± In the corner of my vision I see him nod with more confidence. The nod is probably more for himself than for me.


    The sun was getting uncomfortably close to the horizon, only half an hour or so before sunset.


    I glanced in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see something¡ªanything¡ªfollowing us. We¡¯d heard stories of creatures that only came out after dark. People called them all sorts of things: night walkers, shades, shadows that didn¡¯t need light. Whatever they were, they¡¯d claimed at least three people in our neighborhood alone. And yet, here we were, driving home as if the world was still safe, as if there wasn¡¯t something waiting for us just out of sight.


    I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, pressing my foot a little harder on the gas. I wanted to get home, to barricade ourselves in and feel some semblance of safety, however flimsy.


    As we left the twisted remnants of town behind, the road narrowed, becoming more like a pathway burrowing through the heart of the forest. Dense trees crowded in on both sides, their skeletal branches stretching overhead to form a canopy that blocked out much of the fading light. Marcus stared out the window in silence, his face a tense mask of worry.


    ¡°Almost there,¡± I murmured ¡°Just a minute or two or three and we¡¯ll be home.¡±


    Finally, I saw the crooked mailbox and the line of overgrown bushes marking our driveway. I turned in, and our house appeared at the end of the gravel path, squat and dark against the last light of day. At the moment, it felt like a fortress.


    As we pulled into the driveway of our home in this forest, I saw our dad hunched over in the garden digging up onions out of the soil of our modest garden. What was he still doing out here? Digging onions of course, but I mean why wasn¡¯t he inside already? It was getting late.


    Dad straightened up when he heard the car, giving a small wave with dirt-caked fingers. In just a moment we got out of the car and walked up to him, the bags in hand.


    ¡°Why are you still outside? It¡¯s almost sundown.¡± Marcus asked.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t just stay cooped up inside while you¡¯re both still out there, you know I worry about you.¡±


    ¡°Any trouble today?¡± I inquired, taking a look at the nice harvest he made today, onions and carrots, a good amount of them too.


    ¡°Nothing today, nothing to worry about, Bryndrel spent most of the day keeping me company, kept watch up until about an hour ago.¡±


    Just for your information, Bryndrel is the local forest dryad.


    Anyway, It was about time the three of us head inside.

 Chapter 2.

    The doors to the outside were deadbolted and locked twice over, each one checked and rechecked, every window bore the weight of hastily constructed wooden shutters, thick and nailed deep into the frames, but rough as they were, they were sturdy enough to hold. Or so we hoped. Every last entryway leading to our living room was bolted down, now we could only pray that they would keep us safe if any creatures of the night decided to try breaking inside.


    Just last week, when the windows were still bare, unguarded against the blackness outside, we learned exactly what was waiting in the night. An honest-to-God gremlin, hideous and twisted, burst through the glass. I remember the sight all too well: it was hunched and bony, a creature wrapped in patches of taut, sickly gray skin stretched over bones that seemed ready to burst through. A misshapen maw split its face, lips ragged and wet, teeth crooked and sharp, snapping in gleeful rage.


    We were quick that night¡ªMarcus, my brother, had the crossbow at the ready. When the thing leapt for him, he fired, and the bolt buried itself deep into the creature¡¯s side. It screeched, a sound that scratched at the mind, high-pitched and wet, spewing dark, greasy blood across the wall.


    Panicked by the loud screeching that broke the deep silence of the night ¡ª all I could think at that moment was to make it go quiet as soon as possible. I ran to it and before I could think of anything else I brought down my iron fire poker onto it, its body letting out a wet crunch with each swing. I swung, again and again, a high pitched yelp with each thump, until it finally crumpled, motionless, with one last twisted gasp.


    Mom cleaned up the aftermath as good as she could. Even after she scrubbed the walls and floors, faint, greasy blotches remained, dark reminders of what had trespassed here. Each time I looked at the stains I shivered, the sound of breaking bones echoing in my mind.


    Tonight, we waited, huddled on our mattresses in the warm light of a single flickering oil lamp, dreading the sounds we¡¯d learned too well, wondering if tonight the scratching and clawing would come again.


    ¡°What do we have here today?¡± My mom took a peek inside the bags with the supermarket loot my brother brought inside.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Marcus pulled out multiple packs of various cereals, two cans of soup, and a big bag of apples. Looked like I was having a muesli with dried strawberries for dinner. I took it and eagerly started munching it, after the long day I had ¡ª the food felt like a blessing.


    Before Theodore, my dad, got started with his cereal, he looked at Marcus and me and said, ¡°Cutting it pretty close today, arriving right before sunset, you know Anne and I got pretty worried.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said after swallowing,¡±You know we don¡¯t want to linger outside as well. The padlock for the propane canister cage at the gas station was huge and we couldn¡¯t find the keys. Had to use a blowtorch on it.¡± I returned to my meal.


    Marcus spoke up now,¡±By the way, did you guys hear the announcement on the radio today?¡±


    ¡°Was there something interesting? I was outside in the garden for most of the day.¡±


    I let Marcus tell them about the supply depot the military will be opening at St.Michael¡¯s church.


    Mom¡¯s eyes widened, her mouth forming a small, surprised ¡°o¡± as she turned to Dad. ¡°Finally, something!¡± she breathed, the weight of exhaustion lifting just a little from her voice. ¡°All those reports and promises, but I was starting to think they¡¯d forgotten about us entirely out here. When will it be?¡±


    ¡°The day after tomorrow, so pretty soon.¡±


    Dad leaned back, exhaling a slow breath as he processed this. ¡°About time they did something,¡± he muttered, then looked toward the barred windows. ¡°If they¡¯re serious about holding the depot for a while, it means more than just supplies. Maybe this is part of a push to reclaim the area.¡±


    Mom nodded quickly, her excitement bordering on relief. "Think about it¡ªa real supply line, one where we¡¯re not relying on what we get from the supermarket, or what¡¯s in the garden. I can barely remember the last time we had any meat.¡±


    I watched as a soft smile crept across her face, the first I¡¯d seen in what felt like weeks. She turned back to her cereal, stirring it with a kind of reverence, as if she were already imagining the meals she¡¯d cook with supplies we hadn¡¯t had in ages.


    "Even if it is temporary," Dad said slowly, as if savoring each word, "it¡¯s something we can rely on. Just for a bit." He allowed himself a small, tight smile, the kind he rarely wore these days. ¡°Hey, Max could bring some of those trinkets along for trade, maybe? Speaking of which, how is that crystal thing working out for you?¡±


    He means the powdered essence crystal I started eating at Bryndrels suggestion. Shortly after we befriended it, the dryad showed us this tree where the crystals grew and let me take some. The dryad said doing so could help me attune to the essence of the world, whatever it meant by that.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Oh, that, I think it¡¯s starting to work. I¡¯ve begun to feel those auras Bryndrel was talking about, It¡¯s faint, but definitely there. Like¡­¡± I struggled for the words, watching as the faintest shimmer appeared around the objects I had next to my mattress: an old pocket watch, a strange chunk of blue glass I¡¯d picked up from one of the supermarket shelves, even the herbs Bryndrel had bundled together. Their auras seemed to pulse faintly, giving off this hazy glow that told me¡ªsomehow¡ªwhat they were meant to do.¡±That blue crystal? It gives off this kind of¡­ binding aura. Almost like it¡¯s meant to hold things together, stabilize them.¡±


    ¡°So a magic glue rock?¡± Marcus said.¡±The rest of your things in the garage also have that aura thing?¡±


    I nodded in confirmation, most of that stuff was apparently magical.


    ¡°Hell, maybe I should start eating that powder too.¡±


    Mom glanced up from her cereal, eyebrows raised. "So, you¡¯re saying you can now feel what objects want to do?¡± Her tone held a mix of fascination and that same guarded worry Dad had.


    I scoffed. "It¡¯s not like they¡¯re talking to me, alright? It¡¯s just this gut feeling¡ªa vibe. It¡¯s faint, but I¡¯m telling you, it''s there."


    Mom and Dad exchanged a look, and for a moment, I thought they¡¯d get concerned. But to my surprise, they didn¡¯t. Mom just nodded, more serious than I¡¯d expected. Guess it¡¯s fine for me to continue exploring this magic.


    The aura perception was faint now, a mere flicker, but if it could be honed¡­ it was something, at least. Something I could do. Since the world has turned into some kind of fairy tale, maybe I could even become some kind of wizard? Or maybe an artificer? I couldn¡¯t let such a chance pass me by.


    Ever since things started getting worse, we brought all our mattresses here and we¡¯d been sleeping together in the living room, it was the most fortified part of the house. At first, it felt strange, cramped, but now it was the only way any of us could feel safe enough to sleep.


    After dinner, as everyone cleaned up the last traces of our meager meal, I found myself drifting toward the narrow slit between the boards on the window, peering into the night outside. The darkness beyond was dense, unnaturally still, like the blackness had weight to it, a silence that seemed to swallow sound. But tonight, it was worse¡ªthe shadow people were closer (yes, that is how we called them, since that¡¯s what they looked like). I could barely make them out through the murk, vague figures hovering at the edge of the property line, their forms shifting like smoke caught in a sudden draft.


    They drifted closer each night, just a few feet at a time. It wasn¡¯t that bad at first, but now they were close enough that I could throw something at them and probably hit my target. They were patient¡ªalmost cruelly so, as if waiting for that one moment when we¡¯d slip up, leave a window cracked, or let the door open a beat too long. Seeing them was just another reminder of how little separated our fragile home from whatever waited in the dark outside.


    I left the window and turned back to the living room, trying to put the shadows out of my mind.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯ll take first watch tonight,¡± I said, grabbing my crossbow from where it rested against the wall, the warm wood reassuring in my hands. It might look scrappy, being homemade and all, but it had proved it¡¯s worth.


    Dad looked over at me, his eyes tired but grateful. ¡°You sure? I can take it if you¡¯re too tired.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No, I¡¯m good. Besides,¡± I added, a small smirk creeping onto my face, ¡°I think I might get some practice with these auras of mine. Figure I should get used to whatever I¡¯m seeing.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Max. Wake your dad when it¡¯s his turn, alright?¡±


    ¡°Will do,¡± I replied, offering her a quick nod as they all laid down.


    I didn¡¯t want to worry them, but the trip in town today must have taken it¡¯s toll on me, I didn¡¯t think I could fall asleep anytime soon. I stationed myself by the far wall, the window in front of me on the other side of the room, my back safely pressed against the wall.


    The silence of the house settled around me, and soon enough, I was alone with the heavy, hushed breaths of my family as they drifted into uneasy sleep. Alone now, with only the faint glimmers of aura and the silence of the room, I let myself slip into that strange awareness Bryndrel had hinted at, the one they told was supposed to pull me closer to their world. I was starting to believe that.


    I relaxed my body, tuning in to the hum of magic from the objects next to my mattress, focusing as Bryndrel had advised. Bit by bit, the room shifted, the walls blurring slightly, the corners of the room turning even sharper, as the faint auras glowed around the objects, revealing glimpses of the essences within them. Each time I practiced, the sensation felt stronger, clearer.


    My thoughts drifted back to the supermarket. That place had never felt right, even before I could sense magic. But now¡­ now, with this growing awareness, it was like my skin crawled just thinking about it. I¡¯d felt something there, something beyond just a lingering sense of decay or emptiness. Its aisles too long, the shelves casting shadows that seemed too deep. But now, with this faint perception stirring inside me, I understood it was more than just the emptiness that made the place feel so unnerving.


    The aura around It had been overwhelming, thick and dense, like a space where something dead had been left to rot in the walls. There was a strange, cloying pressure to it, almost like an unseen force was lingering, twisted up in the metal of the shelves, the cracked tiles, and even the grimy fluorescent lights above.


    Back to the present moment, I could sense more than the objects near my bed, the shadow people were out there, I could feel their presence pressing at the edges of my awareness, an unsteady energy that felt almost alive, like a thousand eyes staring from just beyond reach.


    I blinked, the room around me returning to normal as my focus waned.


    Time passed slowly as I sat, my back against the wall, crossbow close at hand. The house silent around me, the air thick with quiet as my family slept.


    When the time finally came to wake Dad, I felt strange, like I¡¯d slipped a little further into the strange world of magic. I leaned over to nudge him, and he blinked awake, giving me a grateful nod as he stretched, rubbing the stiffness from his shoulders.


    "Anything unusual?¡± he asked in a low voice, voice rough with sleep.


    I shook my head. ¡°Just the usual. The shadows are still out there, watching.¡±


    Dad sighed and stood up, stretching his arms. ¡°Well, get some rest.¡±


    And so I did, laying down on my mattress, wrapped in the safety of my blanket. Soon enough, sleep took me.