Max,
I’m sorry I didn’t have time to explain everything to you in person, but this book is the only thing left that ties you to your beginnings. I couldn’t put it off any longer. It’s imperative you receive this now. Before the clock strikes midnight, you must turn to the first page and read the sentence you find there out loud. I promise there will be answers waiting for you on the other side.
Safe travels,
S
Fucking asinine. The whole thing. Who leaves a damn book with a note at the front desk of my gym, wrapped in some ugly ass brown paper? This place may be a dive in the middle of a small desert town in Nevada, but I’ve still got regulars who train religiously every day. How could none of them see anything? And even if I believed what it said, there’s no way in hell I’m reading it. Fuck that!
The whiskey in my glass is calling my name, so I walk over and take another swig, eyeing the book like it will come after me if I don’t listen to the instructions. But I’m not going to be intimidated by a goddamn book. Am I? I haven’t let anything intimidate me since I was big enough for my punches to hold some weight. My adoptive dad learned real quick what would happen if he came at me again. I’d break his goddamn nose with a smile on my face. A measly book sure as hell isn’t going to scare me now.
Despite all that, there’s a voice still whispering in my mind, Don’t do it, Max.
Raking my hand through my hair, I let my head fall back and roll my eyes at the ceiling.
Fuck. I’m totally going to do this.
I stomp over to the desk and sit my big ass down on the comfy office chair I picked out when I bought this trash heap I call a gym. My hand skims over the cover, and I’m forced to begrudgingly admit that my skepticism is slowly turning into curiosity. Some weird symbol with three circles is on the front. Hell if I know what that is. No title. No author. Nothing but a word I can’t read down the spine. Imprimir PÃ. What the fuck does that even mean?
The clock on my desk says I have roughly one minute to decide if I’m doing this thing.
“Shit. Fine. Okay, Universe. You hear me? This is the last time I trust you.”
Opening the front cover, I see a single sentence on the first page.
“Here goes nothing. Take me to the land of make-believe. A land of legends and fairy tales and nightmares…”
My words start to slur, and I know I didn’t drink nearly enough for that shit. Feeling every muscle slowly going limp from fatigue, I struggle to regain control. To fight the tug pulling me under, but it’s a losing battle as my eyelids close and my body goes slack. The book lands on the ground with a loud thud. Then everything goes black.
Brenna
This is fucking stupid. The book is glaring at me from the coffee table in my rinky dink apartment. The Chinese food delivery guy found it when he dropped off my dinner. Swore he had nothing to do with it, and considering he and I are on a first name basis, I believe him. The note is still in my hand, now crumpled a little from my constant rereading. It doesn’t help that Mila keeps batting it with her paw, and I keep pulling it away.
“This is not a toy, Mila.”
“Meow!”
“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute!” She begins to purr as I stroke her black ears, finding solace in her presence. If anyone ever saw Brenna Taylor going gaga for a kitten, they’d lose their shit. Tough as nails, definitely. Mushy over an adorable purr? Definitely not. There aren't a lot of opportunities for my co-workers to see my softer side, and I'm not in a rush to show it to them.
My focus turns back to the mysterious note. There are few clues telling me who would’ve left this, but the instructions are clear.
Brenna,
I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver this to you in person, my dear, but a situation has arisen that requires my immediate attention. I know you’re curious, maybe a hint angry, and a whole lot frustrated. I promise, all the answers you could ever want are within these pages. I must beg of you, before the clock strikes midnight, turn to the first page of the book and read the passage written there aloud. You’ll find the answers you’ve long been seeking. Trust me. Please!
Safe travels,
R
Words can’t hurt me. I learned that a long time ago, so I’m not sure what I’m afraid of. Something tells me this is big, and I always trust my instincts. They’ve served me well over the years, have since I was old enough to learn how cruel people could be. When your gut tells you to hide, you hide. When it tells you to run, you run. No second guessing, no room for error. There’s a good chance I wouldn’t be here right now, about to read some crazy ass story, if I had strayed from that first pull of instinct.
The book still sits taunting me, the leather cover triggering a memory, one I just can’t seem to place. Like I’ve seen it somewhere before. The symbol on the front, however, is not familiar at all. Three overlapping circles. That’s it. What sort of book has no title or author? There’s a single word scrolled on the spine. Pythonissam. I have no idea what that word means, and I sure as shit can’t pronounce it.
Right now, it’s less than a minute until midnight. “Hell. I’ve got to do this.”
My hand roughly grabs the book off the table as I flop back into the worn cushions of my sofa. Mila gives me an angry glare for tossing her around before she circles my lap and curls up in between me and the book. Flipping open the cover, my fingers run over the words as I say them out loud.
“Take me to the land of make-believe. A land of legends and fairy tales and nightmares…”
The book suddenly feels like it weighs a ton, my hands dropping it onto the cushion beside me. My eyes close despite how hard I try to keep them open. Just before the darkness consumes me, I mutter, “Fucking really?”