I want to tell you a horror story about a book. When I bought the book from the second hand bookstore, there was neither a title nor an author’s name on it. In the middle of the book was a raised eye symbol.. It seemed as if it was looking at me. I said to myself, that’s nonsense, this is just a book.
But that night, when I returned home, when I put the book on the table, the first strange thing began. The pages opened by themselves, there were some lines written in handwriting on the papers. It wasn’t ink, it looked like dried blood.
“Whoever reads this becomes part of what they read”
That was the first sentence. I laughed at it and moved on. Then I continued reading.
The pages were moving forward and the writings were changing, the book seemed to be talking to me. One page asked “are you alone”, I said “Yes”, then I startled at myself. “Why did I answer?” I said to myself..
It became night, I went to bed, the Book was beside my bed, every time I looked at it, that eye symbol on the cover was looking at me. I even heard some of the pages turning by themselves..
The next day came, I went to work but my mind was at home. I tried not to think about the Book, I tried to get it out of my head but of course I couldn’t, a voice seemed to be constantly whispering to me. “Go back home. Read the Book. Keep Reading..”
I came home in the evening and the book was exactly where it was, I had left it on the table. The book had opened by itself, there was an open page and on the open page there was a new sentence:
“Everyone who read me became mine, You will too.”
I closed the book and put it into the drawer but sounds started coming from the drawer. Laughter, knocking sounds, whispers.
That night, I saw that book in my dream. In my dream, I was in a dark room and there was only that book in front of me and its cover was open. All the pages were blank but words that looked like they were written in blood kept appearing:
“It’s too late now.”
When I got up, the book was at the edge of my bed, its cover was open and the pages were turning by themselves. On one page I saw my first name, last name, date of birth, and date of death but the death date was blank.
At that moment I understood this book was not just made of paper and ink. There was something living inside it, that thing was hungry.
Days and weeks passed, I lost track of time. I wasn’t even going outside anymore. My phone was ringing, someone was knocking on the door, I knew those voices but I wasn’t opening the door. The Book was whispering to me, “they are coming to take you but you are mine”
Dark veins had appeared around my eyes, my pupils had grown larger, my eyes looked strange.
I opened the Book, a sentence appeared on the last page, “Now find others, tell them about us too”
Yes, now I understood, the book would never end, the story would never end.. I was just a carrier. Night came, I opened the door and went outside, the book in my hand… The eye on it was looking at me, but now I was smiling.
Then I saw a man walking alone on the street, I approached him, I held the book out to him and said “take it” that voice was not my voice. “This book is for you” I said. He hesitated but reached out his hand”
Our eyes met and I saw the same darkness in his eyes. But it was only beginning, but I was free…
