《With Eyes in Both Worlds》 On The Bridge Above the River Once again, my glasses fogged up as I breathed in the cold January air, exhaling mist through my woolen scarf. Once again, I paused to clean them, only to tuck them back into their place in the inner pocket of my coat. Once again, I found myself on the small communistic bridge above the Vishnitsa River, staring at the monster. A calm monster, yes, but still, neither human nor animal¡ªa being. Perched on the railing, always looking eastward at the rising sun, its sharp claws gripping the old metal. The rust it dislodged piled on the same spot I found it every morning. The only proof of its existence¡ªthe pile of rust and my memory. If it was like the other spirits, it wouldn¡¯t even care about me unless it realized I could see it¡ªlike the akulii near the park or the minks in the basement. At least, that¡¯s what I told myself. True, it was frightening, but curiosity outweighed fear in this case. Every morning, it simply stared eastward at the sun, the same orb that would later blind me on my way to my school. As much as I wanted to ignore it and suppress my interest, my gaze couldn¡¯t help but linger on it. The way its fur shimmered with a layer of crystalline fragments that refracted the light into all of its colors. The fact that it had scars¡ªsomething quite tangible for a spirit. And, finally, the question: Why was it rooted here? What was in the sunrise here that wasn¡¯t elsewhere? Why for the past two and a half weeks and not for centuries? As with most spirits, my unseen companions, the mysteries were hidden in emotions. And so, I continued on my way. The days passed; the snow melted, the sharp winds softened, and the rust continued to gather on the bridge above Vishnitsa. By the end of the semester, I decided to try and see what it saw in the landscape. Early one morning, with sunglasses and a cigarette filled with incense, I sat down next to the creature. Looking eastward, I took a moment to pause, to be present, and stopped. I saw¡­ the sun, light reflected in the half-frozen river below us, greenery breaking through the frozen ground. I saw the school in the distance, the place where I once had a picnic with Adi. I lit the cigarette, forming a cross with two quick motions and murmuring a protective prayer my mum thought me. I put the lighter away. It looked at me. I closed my pocket. It opened its maw¡ªa forest of teeth, colored with sadness and fury, bathed in the morning rays, revealed itself. I closed my eyes, claws digging into my skin.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. If they don¡¯t know, they don¡¯t care. ¡°Why do you gaze at the sun, oh child of the living?¡± Its voice scraped like a crumb of bread harder than stone, like a glove rubbing snow. I opened my eyes and let out a breath I didn¡¯t realize I¡¯d been holding. ¡°To see what you see, son of the nonexistent.¡± I answered with a dry mouth, fear rooting me to the metal railing. ¡°And what do you perceive, with one eye in each dimension?¡± I paused for a moment, unsure of my words. ¡°A part of my life¡ªa path many tread every day, but few stop to see. The moment now, the consequences of yesterday, and the promises for tomorrow.¡± He fell silent like me, his claws loosening their grip on the railing and clutching his fur, like a philosopher deep in thought. ¡°I see what could have been and what is now¡ªthe rust on my hands, the dead plants beneath the soil, and the poison in the water.¡± I looked at the landscape. The plants barely peeked through, the bridge should have been restored three years ago, and the fish in the river grew smaller and smaller with each year since I can remember. Those things were there ¡°but everything has two sides. Why do you only look eastward, with your back to the sunset?¡± ¡°I died here, below. Beneath the bridge. I fell ill and hid where I could¡­ I watch the sunrise because I wish for a better morning. Something that promises me there¡¯s a chance.¡± I looked at him again, his long nails dirty with mud and grime, the fur of his coat frozen with ice, his teeth crooked from a life full of fights. ¡°Then there¡¯s no reason to wait for the sun. I promise you things will get better.¡± I said it without much thought. I knew there was no other answer I would accept. With one hand, the vagrant stole my cigarette and placed it on his cracked lips, the incense instantly scorching his ghostly skin. ¡°I trust you, kid.¡± In the weeks that followed, the grass grew, the river filled, and I managed to get some friends from school to help me repaint the bridge, even managed to get the school to fund it. I sat on the railing at the start of the next semester. Once again, I looked eastward. Once again, I left a coin beside me for the ones in need. Once again, I was grateful for what I had. Once again, I decided that things would be better. And so started my final semester, I had already been accepted into the university of cultural insights in the UK. Just had to pass the year. It would be a teary goodbye to my family and friends, but that was for later. â„–0 Martin Cekov 23/01/2025 Journal Number 1, Log 1, the strange case of Martin Cekov, a boy born with the uncanny ability to see into the "other" realm, a place where spirits and creatures of magic and fantasy reside. Origin: Montenegro, also known as Black Forrest. Description: Handsome, Devilishly charming, and unsure of what to write on these pages. I am the author of this journal. It''s about time I started recording the things I''ve seen and the experiences I''ve had. I am now living in Sofia, in a dorm, and studying at a new university. I''m far enough away that my parents'' warnings have become just afterthoughts as I write this. I am special, and I will get to the bottom of this.
The turning of the lock of the door took me out of my concentration, closing my journal and putting my pen back into its place I looked at Vinny. My roommate for the past couple of months, his dark clothes and grunge aesthetic bleeding out of him as though he''s a balloon filled with edge. Of course that never stopped him from being my first friend in this unknown world. "Yo, help out with the water." He said, lowering his headphones and putting a giant jug of water off to the side as he got down to untie his black boots. "Man, you look like you woke up like 2 hours ago, you good?" a bit of concern leaking through his voice. He''d been sweet and helped me get acquainted with the new city and university. I blared at the sunset of the windows, peeking through the mountains. "Couldn''t sleep again, I think I missed another lecture," I said with a bit of despair, picking up the jug and moving it to the kitchen, I placed it down after shooing away the one-eyed orange creatures that had gathered in the corner, they tended to gather at corners and stick to one and each other, like jelly, I remember calling them icknusii, they were harmless, from what I''d seen they just looked icky, and this apartment had a staggering amount of them rooted. A hand on my shoulder caught my attention as I raised mine in response and got dabbed up for a greeting. "So what''s for dinner?" I asked, looking at the canvas bag, trying to peer into its secrets only to recoil away as Vinny moved it away quickly. "Not gonna know until it''s served and hot! You are my guinea pig after all." He said with mock evil laughter turning his back to me and hiding the contents in the fridge. "Just, ya know send like 8 leva for groceries" he added sheepishly. "Sure, will do," I said already taking out my phone and sending him the money. "But what about Igor?" I wondered about our last piece of the puzzle, my eyes pondering his desk In the shared living room, the googly gaze of his pet rock meeting me right back, I honestly don''t know if the rock was a spirit or not and that concerned me sometimes. "He''s with his girl tonight, so it''s just the two of us, although I''ll crash out early, have to wake up early," Vinny answered, still putting food into the fridge, the noises warning anyone within 2 floors of us. "You? Waking up early?" I looked at him, remembering his late-night calls to open the front door because he forgot his keys or pleas of driving him back home after 3 am benders. "Phah, the pot calls the kettle black?" He looked at me closing the fridge with bravado, while still managing to hide his ingredients, "remind me, when did you go to sleep today?" he asked while in the kitchen, I could hear the smirk even through the wall. "That''s beside the point, you know the pipes are way too loud in my room!" I said, shivering at the memory of the claws scrapping at the inner walls of the building, there was a reason I hadn''t been getting good sleep, and I intended on fixing it today, still can probably. "Just take some sleeping pills!" He called back. And so the evening went, we picked out a movie to watch and ate his culinary experiment of the day, this time I couldn''t complain, oven-baked potatoes with fried instant noodles and a sauce of tomatoes and whatever spices he put in there. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Thus our evening ritual was started, Vinny and I had managed to bond in a foreign country by doing what any self-respecting punk would do, watching classical movies, talking about music bands, and conversing about philosophy. Granted he was in Oral medicine and I was in Culture and Folklore so I had a bit of a step-up, but he would always manage to surprise and intrigue me with the kind of ideas he''d overheard students, lecturers, and friends would say, at class, bars, and clubs, the location not tied to individuals. "You know, Nikky Sixx, was pronounced dead on one of his tourneys right? They managed to revive him like 5 minutes after they found him." Vinny said in between bites of his food lying on the brown couch in front of the PC monitor we used as a TV. "From Motley? No way, seriously? How often does that even happen?" I asked looking back at him in awe, just thinking of what his spirit must''ve gone through, while the spirit were in the "other" world, I''ve seen them interact with ours, in small unnoticeable ways, but ways that added up over time. Just trying to imagine that scene was hard but so, interesting to think about. "Yes from Motley, Yes seriously, and it''s disproportionally more common with rockstars high of their minds from cocaine than with normal people." He answered I sighed a bit disappointed at the realization that I might never get to see the phenomenon ever happen. Vinny for his part only looked at me with a raised eyebrow before continuing "You know we got some stories at our hospital of people dying for minutes before being resuscitated, straight out of doctor drama shows." He said trying to impress me. And impress me he did, as well as feeding into my perhaps unhealthy curiosity about mortality. As the night drew closer I headed out of the apartment to check a witch shop I had found online a couple of days ago, hopefully, they would have something to cleanse my room. Seeing spirits had made me a bit more curious about folk culture, magics, and anything related to the arcane and spiritual, unfortunately to my massive disappointment, most of it was ballocks made to prey on people. But some of it was real, through testing and using the scientific method which my physics professor Old Lila always said consists of "Think, Assume, Do, Write, Repeat." proved to me that incense drives away spirits, prayers work to an extent, and that spirits nourish themselves by ideas. So I put on my trenchcoat, my scarf, and my gloves, stained by paint. I exited and went to the elevator. Opening the door and letting myself in, pressed the floor 1 button and went through the list of what I needed and might be interested in. Incense, Spellbook? Some candles, if not for the atmosphere. Potions? Maybe a prayer book. Prayer beads? Nah Vinny would make way too much fun of me for that. The elevator eventually chimed at the 5th floor, I went to open the door for the person waiting and was greeted with a spirit hair made from the roots of a tree, knots forming eyes around the place where a head should be, and a female folklore style dress cladding the spirit, brandished with all of the colors I''d seen in my lectures, green, red, white and black, forming a cohesive pattern that danced around the body. The spirit walked forward, her hand made from twigs of a dark wood pushing the door open even more. Before I could even respond and actualize what happened she spoke. "Well thank you, bastard, of the material, it seems like one can be both a bastard and a gentleman" Her voice was like that of rustling leaves and pages brushing against each other, it was strangely soothing and calm, even with the snarky message contained in the words. I took a step back to make space for her as I flabbergastedly looked her up and down, having never seen a spirit like this before. "You know it''s rude to stare?" She said with a cold tone before I mustered up the courage to say anything, I could feel sap on my hands appear, making them stick together, and green mold in the corners of the small cabin began to grow at a rapid pace. "I apologize, oh daughter of the non-living, I meant no offense done with my words or actions," I said gathering myself and trying to take the diplomatic approach as always. I could immediately feel the stickiness disappear from my skin, and the musty air began to clear, her anger seemingly going away. "My name is Martin, it is a pleasure to share my roots here with you for now," I said trying to start amicable relations with the spirit, the last one I had spoken to still weighed heavily on my mind, I promised him something yet with each day I had less hope in that promise. As the seconds passed all I got as a reply was the creaking of wood, each second of silence building tension that I could really do without. Eventually, though, the elevator reached the first floor and I waited for her to exit before taking my leave. Nodding to her I left the building quickly trying to get to the metro. We have a spirit in the building! Well, it shouldn''t be that surprising it''s massive, but it''s an intelligent one! Is it from a past person? How long has it been here? Why... just why? Thoughts assailed me as I walked on a path without taking in my surroundings. I guess I had my wish accomplished with a new "friend" living quite close. At least she didn''t seem as scary as the man on the bridge at first, but she seemed to see right through me immediately, knowing I knew, well I opened the door for her so it makes sense. As I walked I failed to notice the minks hiding in the trees, or the kids playing on the playground along with the bubbly zabavi. Only when I was looking at the toll gate at the metro did I feel my heart stopping its frantic beating as I put the card on the scanner and passed through. "Fuck me, spirits are scary," I said to no one in particular as I waited at the stop, a man to the left of me nodded his head as though I was saying a common fact. â„–1 Mruki 23/01/2025 Journal number 1, log 2, On the subject of mruki, the bottom feeders of dark spirits Origin: Darkness, dampness, and corners, the mruki seem to inhabit spaces most people would consider horrid and disheveled, like the cockroaches of the spiritual they are very hard to get rid of, only persistent cleaning, both physical and spiritual will do the trick. Emotions: I''ve mostly been tying them to hopelessness and giving up. But they seem to be connected to the "vibes" of the place where they are rooted rather than the people. Description: Small blob-like creatures the color of dirt and grime having an odd amount of limbs, at least 3 and never more than 7, mruki have a singular orange eye that seems to reflect light like a cat, the smallest ones I''ve seen have been the size of small earbuds, the largest about the size of my palm, their size disparity creates a rough bell curve. Mannerisms: Mruki are sedentary stalkers that settle in a place and do not move unless they have to, even if you shine a light on them they will not go away, you must shoo them away physically, best done with a broom. Mruki leave behind residue anywhere they go, so the quicker they''re cleared the easier the cleanup will be. I generally throw them out of the balcony when it''s time to clean them up, they don''t seem to mind too much as they float lazily down to the ground. Firuna (Coining this new term to mean the spiritual ecosystem in a given place): I have seen mruki be eaten and consumed by bigger spirits that have the same affinities, things like senki and furki are their natural predators. Will write about them another time. Mruki seem to also be the bottom feeders of the dark affinity spirits, showing the least destructive and most benign effects of entropy and lack of care. Authors Note: I have still not figured out if spirits cause effects in the material world or if the material world causes effects in the "other", e.i. do mruki cause dirt, degradation, darkness, and a feeling of ickiness, or if those things attract mruki? Perhaps both to a certain degree.
"Stop Serdika, if you have forgotten items in the metro call number 08555, stop Serdika." I looked closed my notes app and checked over for anything forgotten then headed out of the metro. Opening up the maps app it took me a bit to realize where I was supposed to go, a witch shop hopefully they had everything I needed, and perhaps I could even get some information. Stumbling trough the lightly lit underground corridors of the metro I saw dense gatherings of mruki in the corners, dust bunnies on the mosaics and other spirits wondering about, filling the already colorful halls with such saturated colors that it hurt my eyes to stare. Eventually though, the turnstiles clicked, the cold air hit my face, and I hid my face in my scarf. The midmorning sun beat down on me as I made my way trough the cracked streets of the city filled with snow. Guided by my phone I made my way to an alley from the main road. "A left and straight ahead... huh George street, wasn''t that the name of saint?" I said to myself as I looked down the street, the panel blocks varying only by the amount they have decayed since constructed, that and their balconies'' laundry. There was a distinct lack of spirits, as my feet crunched the snow beneath me a sense of wrongness washed over me yet I proceeded forwards. My phone vibrated as I walked by stairs for the underground levels of a block, there was supposed to a shop here, but as I looked around the only things that caught my attention was the post board filled with obituary posters for which I gave a small prayer and the stairs. A black cat sitting on the top stairs caught my attention just before it jumped down and out of view. After a brief pause I decided to go down them and open the heavily rusted metal door at the end, no cat in sight, cold bit my hand back when I touched the handle of the door. Looking inside I saw a dimly lit space, candles giving a warm orange tinge to bottles, jars, herbs and different materials for witch-craft and rituals, the familiar smell of incense hit my face, although it was a lot more piercing then what I was used to. Coming inside I felt the rush of cold air from my back push me forward, a couple of pieces of paper coming loose from their places and flying around in the air. The rings of many wood chimes filled the place with a chaotic chorus causing a cacophony to litter around the room.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "Close the damn door!" A commanding voice yelled from behind the counter in another room. "Sorry!" I yelled back pushing against the metal door and closing it with a bit of push, the metal creaking in protest. The winds died down, the candles returned to their balance and the room returned it''s previous state. As I looked around one thing caught my attention, the black cat looking up at me, with keenly intelligent eyes, one of it''s ears cut up and missing a few pieces, a mruki in it''s mouth bleeding tar from the holes in it''s body. "There you are, thank you darling." My attention was pulled to a lady in a no-nonsense outfit, sporting jeans and a shirt with the logo of a metal band that I could not decipher the name of, short brunette bangs of hair rolled down her face, the rest of her hair hidden in a bun behind her head. "Now how can I help you? You caught me a bit off guard." I looked back to the cat, only to find it gone. I stepped up to the counter and took a moment to look at all the endless supplies of the witch business. "Just want some incense and a few ritual candles?" I said unsure of how she would understand ''ritual'' and then added on "I''ve been wanting to clear out the bad energies in my life, and that seemed like a good start." I smiled, almost making myself laugh at my own cluelessness. She looked at me for a moment too long and then nodded, turning around to grab a few items from shelves out of view. "Is the candle going to be used for dark rituals? light rituals? Connected to any particular god or gods?" She asked clarifying questions as she three stacks and one bag of incense on the counter. I thought about it for a moment and then shrugged before grabbing the bag of incense to inspect it, ''White Sage'' it read, from my cursory knowledge it would be perfect, and then my eyes roamed to the price tag, carefully putting it down and taking a look at the sticks, ''Clove'', ''Ginger'' and ''Nag Champa'' seemed like more sensible options so I slid the ''Clove'' one to the plastic tray and put down a few metal coins to pay for it. "As I said the candle is going to be for clearing out bad vibes, and no not connecting it to any gods, don''t want to bother them." I said as I looked at the candles and all their different colors. "What would you recommend?" She looked at me judgingly before putting a set of simple green candles in front of me, six of them to be exact. "These should be fine enough for your purposes. Although I''d help if I knew kind of bad energy you''re trying to expel I won''t pry." She eyed me with what almost seemed like pity for a moment before taking the rest of the incense and putting it back in it''s place. I murmured a thanks as I put down the money and put the items in the pockets of the jacket. "I have to ask, why is there no sign for a shop outside? I only managed to get in the shop out of sheer luck." Without looking away from the cash register she said "Those who search for this place will find it no matter what. I expect you to come back." Looking up she gave me a smile, and with the click of the cash register I nodded and turned around to leave. The cat looking at me go.