NEW SECTION IS FINALLY FINISHED!!! I hafta warn you guys there's a bit of profanity towards the end, but I've censored it out of respect for the mods
enjoy, this has to have been the most fun to write out of everything yet!
I woke up sweating with the voice echoing still in my head. I tilted my head to listen, all was quiet. The music (did I really hear music?) had faded into silence. I looked at the clock and saw that three hours had passed, it must have been a nightmare.
Then why was it so real? The thought permeated my mind.
I slid off the bed and found that my suitcase had already been transferred to my room, Mom must have been kind enough to take care of my luggage. I hurried out of the room as if the (Reaper) thing of my nightmares was still at my feet and I slid down the master staircase. I heard human activity coming from a hallway to my right and I found myself in the dining room.
Seated around the table was my family, eating some leftover pizza probably found in the kitchen's pantry. My father seemed to be on a non-drunken rant about the locale.
"Damn rednecks," my dad growled, "nothing but rednecks in that town. They actually scoffed at me when I asked where the damn pay phone was while I was down there."
"C'mon Grant, it can't be all that bad," my mother retorted, "what with the snow tomorrow, we won't have to deal with your so-called 'rednecks' again!"
Snow? I pricked an ear. Looks like isolation would be coming sooner than I thought. My mother, adequately annoyed by my dad's irritability, stood up and went over to the sink pressing her hand over her head.
"Damn altitude," she muttered, "giving me the headache of my life..."
Come to think of it, she did look a bit pale and drawn. Perhaps she was tired from the trip, or coming down with a little flu. Nothing that she couldn't handle. I didn't feel like dealing with my family's bitterness, so I decided to skip food for the night and search around the house.
Once again I ascended the grand master staircase and quickly strode past my bedroom door. That dream, it still was imprinting itself on my waking life. I shook my head and promptly bumped into a ladder that I hadn't seen in front of me.
I stumbled backwards. What the hell? Who left this ladder down like this? Must have been my father, poking around while I was asleep. My natural curiosity was piqued and I climbed the ladder only to find myself in a dank and dark attic room.
Books were littered all over the floor, their ornately designed covers glinting in the little sunlight coming from a filthy skylight. I kicked around a few of the books. All seemed to be in fair condition, the last caretaker must have kept them safe from the ravages of time. That service certainly wouldn't be provided by Grant Tyler.
I reached into the pile of books and pulled out a blank one. I flipped through the pages, there was nothing written anywhere in this book but on the first page, and the only thing there was the initials "Z.T.".
Z.T.? I thought, quite the odd initials, and then it hit me, this was the never-started diary of Zacharia Tyler himself. I was holding a piece of family history in my hands, no matter how incomplete it was.
An old yellow pencil was littered on the floor nearby, left by someone from a generation long-forgotten. Strange, I wondered, it's almost like someone or something wants me to write in this book. I brushed off that odd speculation, I'd been having a lot of those lately.
I sat down on the dusty floor, flipped to the first blank page in the diary and began to write the words, "December 1, 1977. Found this journal just lying up in the attic..."
As I wrote the words, outside the night sky was a nightmarish black and the first hint of snow began to fall from the sky. A storm was beginning...
December 2, 1977
It's funny how when new things come into your life, dreams always follow. First there was that nightmare and now this....
I remember being in the attic looking over everything I had written when I found myself in a ballroom. No, not just a ballroom, THE Ballroom. The one on the ground floor of the Tyler Manor.
When I had gone there yesterday in waking life, I had found it a giant austere room, it may have once hosted greatness and beauty but now it was just chilly and filthy. But now the greatness was back!
I was on the balcony at the far end of the Ballroom, and below me on the Ballroom floor danced dozens of couples, all dressed in post-war clothing. Smoke clouded the air as the ladies daintily smoked cigarettes and the men gnawed on cigars.
I felt a presence behind me and I turned to find myself staring at a middle-aged man with jet black hair with streaks of gray through it. He was dressed in the grandest suit of them all. The suit was a handsome affair, with large brass buttons lining the front and a monocle swung in front of the man's chest.
"Ah, you are enjoying my celebration are you not?" the man spoke to me.
I found strength in the midst of my astonishment to reply, "of course, it's very...grand." I felt foolish as those words left my mouth. This wasn't a place for people like me, only the privileged and the self-disciplined belonged here. They were posh, every one of them.
"Yes, it was a terrible war, but in the end it turned profit! In the end that is all that matters is it not old chap?" the man congenially ignored my lack of class.
War? I thought, what war is he referring to.. and then the realization struck me. This was none other than Zachariah Tyler I was talking to. But he was long-dead! No, this was his day and age, the post-war boom, following World War Two and Zachariah had lost his son recently.
A twinge of sadness seemed to pass into Zachariah's eyes, perhaps he was trying to forget the newly dead Keith. Realizing his sadness was coming back to him, Zachariah hastened to change the subject.
"Now young man! I must go and mingle with the crowd! They expect a good time and that is what I must give them!" Zachariah glided away from me into the crowd.
A woman separated herself from the crowd and ascended the grand stairs. Her eyes were focused on me. She wore a blazingly white evening dress and jeweled rings decorated her fingers.
The mystery woman finished her ascent and approached me. I stayed silent, no words were passed between us. As if something out of my control was driving me I walked forward to meet this new enigma and embraced her.
She accepted my grasp and our lips met just as the clock struck midnight....
I flashed awake in shock. The dream had been so real, just like my experience in my room. Daylight glowed through the skylights of the attic, I had been up here all night. My pencil was still grasped in my right hand, but it was worn down to uselessness. Almost as if I had been writing extremely hard with it, but I hadn't...
My eyes fell upon the previously blank page of my journal. Scrawled across the page in handwriting that was crazed and almost unreadable were the words...
Reaper....gonna kill them,
gonna f*cking kill them...gonna destroy them..
smash their skulls, burn 'em...Reaper....
won't f*cking leave me alone..Reaper...
getting closer...no,
Reaper...
Reaper...
REAPER!
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