[EternalPen]

Synopsis: A student's old college professor disappears, and when he is found, it throws the student into a reality of what really exist beyond what we see.


Falkner Trevis is a man of high intelligence, even higher enthusiasm, and an unimaginable, insatiable appetite for mystery and adventure. He was also a working man, but didn't do as well in his job as he did thinking up ways to find Poseidon's Trident, or the Fountain of Youth, or even a genuine Yeti. He often wrote about his treks and how "successful" they were. He wrote about what he found and what lies in wait for others like him who would brave such dangers as he did to find answers to the world's unanswered questions.

He wasn't young, but he was defiantly not old. Or his actions didn't show it, at least. He was probably around his older fifties, nearing sixty, but he didn't like to admit it. He never told anyone his true age, but I made an educated guess and told him. He didn't say yes or no, but he fumed with anger and stormed off. Then he began to scream about how I was completely wrong and wasn't close in the slightest.

He died three days ago, but he wasn't found until today. Not but three hours ago He was found, facedown, in a pool of water. He was as blue as death itself, which seems an appropriate color for his situation. A notebook was found next to the pool and it contained pictures of which I never knew he could draw. They were his image of the Undead, the Loch ness Monster, and a genuine Yeti. I smiled at the idea of his finding one and sharing a nice warm cup of British tea. The massive beast would be sticking his pinky finger out into the air as he daintily sipped the warm drink, and spitting it out before going off to look for some cold beverage, and probably a villager or two to go with it.

I was shaken from my imagination and back into the hard, unforgiving truth when they asked me to contact his family. He was, indeed and undoubtedly, dead.

I gave them his grandson's phone number and went back to my hometown. I was going to go inform my friends, his former colleagues, and my parents. We needed to go pay our respects.

The nest Sunday afternoon, the funeral took place. Flowers were placed and people spoke, but while Falkner's Granddaughter spoke, his grandson came to me. He handed me the small notebook that belonged to Falkner and told me that my name was written throughout it when he referred to who he wanted to see the things he saw. He gave it to me and asked me to keep it. Before the funeral was even over, I opened it and read the pages.

I found a small entry entitled "Healing Waters and Cleansing Imps." I had always thought of Imps as small, red, and little people wearing devil costumes and poking people with what might resemble a red Trident. This made them sound almost as if they were... holy.

"Dear word!" It began, "I've made an astounding discovery! Not only is there exactly one Imp for every human that is born, but they attach to that human and cause trouble. Every mishap, every trip, fall, and scratch is caused by these devious little tricksters! Therefore, Imps are evil, they are horrible race! They eat all they can, corrupt all they can, and destroy all they can, and some they probably can't! They give it a good go, though.

"I have found that a few, 'special' (if you please) Imps are good-hearted and spiritually holy in a manner of speaking. They are small and ride around on floating leaves. They find transportation more in fall than any other season. Their heads are almost triangular with their sharp, pointy chins. Their ears and big and floppy and they always wear completely green outfits. But their faces! That's how you tell which are good and which are bad! I've also noticed that, somewhere, deep inside their black eyes is a hint of the darkness that resides in the human it's been 'assigned' to."

I looked at the two pictures he had drawn and marveled at his artwork. He told me he couldn't draw at all unless he was looking at what he was about to capture in ink. The first drawing showed a small creature, the one he was describing, and it was smiling big. Its eyes were big and almond shaped, and its pupils took the entire eye, save the back corners. The back corners were black instead of white, but I couldn't tell if it was because that was the color of if, or if it was only a set-back to drawing a picture with only a pen. Their noses were small, but made in a baggy sort of way, as if they were made small, but had excess skin that was placed there. The next picture was exactly the same, but the face was missing. It had been scratched out by someone who obviously didn't like their artwork, or their own drawing had scared them.

Above each one was a label. "Good" was written above the complete one, and "Bad" was written above the one that had no face. I continued to read.

"I tried to draw them for your aid in believing me, but the visually putrid, eye-scratching, stomach wrenching features of the face were too much. I could bear to look at it no longer; therefore I could not finish the drawing.

"The Imps of the good lands let me know of a pool of water that would heal me of every wrong, every impurity, every blemish, spot, disease, and physical deformity if I would bathe in it. I followed their instructions and ate of the grass and fruits that grew around the edges and while I still had the chewed-up food in my mouth, I jumped in. I am to completely submerge myself, and I am to drink the water and swallow my herbs and fruits at the same time. I fear I will choke, but the Imps are not that way to trick me."

That is how it ended. I laughed at myself for thinking he was going somewhere with all of this. He imagined it and choked on the water and herbs and drowned from it. It made me smile to think that he went out happy and having completed so many "adventures" and "solving" so many mysteries.

But what if...

I went back to my home thinking that there could possibly be a little truth to what the professor said. The very proposition shook my bones with fear. What if? As it slowly sapped my strength and resolve that told me no such thing could exist.

I tried to sleep that night, but couldn't seem to grasp the fleeting relief. The question "what if" rang through my mind, softly at first, but then with a deafening roar as it slowly sapped my strength and resolve that told me no such thing could exist. My fear, not only for myself, but for all humanity as we know it, grew. These things the professor said... what if?

I could stand it no longer! The wonder, the fear, the fatigue! I had to stop every bit of it, once and for all. I got up, and I got dressed. This night would never end, but it would be the death of me if I didn't find out. I had to know the answer to the question... what if?

I reached the small pool where my old professor was found. It was surrounded by small, orange cones ans they were all connected by yellow police tape. "Do not cross" was written across it over and over in an endless cycle as if it didn't know when to stop, or whence it began. I crossed over it.

It was preposterous, but I had a small nagging feeling that he was telling the truth. The professor was not a loon; he only spoke the truth, and barely wrote down anything, least of all his imagination. I decided it couldn't hurt anyone, so, looking around, I climbed into the pool. My clothes stuck to me as I looked for anyone who might be watching and thinking I had gone crazy.

I grabbed a handful of the weeds that grew out from the edge of the pool and picked a small fruit that was lying next to one. The fruit was probably native to this land, but it was alien to me. It resembled a pear, but it was white and mushy. I took a bite of the fruit, hoping I wasn't poisoning myself with this non-sense, and stuffed the weeds into my mouth also. I could have sworn I heard a giggling noise, but I shrugged it off and began to chew.

When my mouthful was completely mush, I drew a deep breath from my nostrils, and submerged myself. The water was warm, and I opened my mouth. I swallowed the food and the water that had entered my cavern of an open mouth, and I jumped out of the pool, quickly, and checked myself. Everything was still normal, so I sighed and was about to find someone that might have a towel when I felt a little woozy.

I took one step forward, and my leg bone snapped in half inside the skin. I screamed and fell backwards into the pool. My leg healed itself and was no longer broken, but now felt stronger. That is when it struck me.

Falkner was right! He was writing the truth! But I realized it too soon as my other leg, then my spine, snapped in half, still in my body. Everything is healed, but first it has to be broken. I began to sink as I experienced pain beyond my belief as each bone shattered in my now deformed body, and I began to grow boils and vomit. I sank into the water, though it was shallow and couldn't swim to breath. The pain was too excruciatingly real to do anything! Much less swim! But I tried.

I reached the surface and saw it there. Less than a foot away from my face was the tiny figure of the Imp that Falkner had drawn. It was laughing hysterically as I struggled to keep myself from dying.

The Imp looked at me and took of its mask. I saw the horror that my old professor had tried to capture but failed in doing so, and I understood why. Its hideous eyes, they were glowing, glowing, flashing like a strobe-light of the pits of hell. They stared at me with hateful intent and wishful thoughts of death and despair. Its fanged teeth formed a horrendous smile as he began to laugh again.

The image burned itself into my mind forever as I slipped back into the waters. I will never forget, though I will probably die in the next few minutes, those eyes. They were mortified, disfigured, deformed eyes that were full of horror and my worst nightmares. Though they were not of anything holy whatsoever, but of the purest from of evil, I saw something else that scarred me forever more, far worse than anything else I could have witnessed. Even into the after-life, whatever may await me there, I will never forget it.

Its demonic eyes reflected the hate and death that resides within me.

The corroded eyes were those of mine.

Interesting EP, and disgusting lol. Some great descriptions in here. It moves a little fast at points but overall not a bad bit of surrealism. Good work.

[EternalPen]

Thank you! I was hoping this would be as good as I thought it was.

[Lubesh]

That was a confident piece of writing and the idea was totlaly enjoyable. Although quite short I had to check, it sure packed a punch with the detail, writing and story telling. Well done!


I came across these as a reminder to check ur work although they r easily mssed.


He wasn't young, but he was defiantly not old..not sure if typo or u meant defiantly which wouldn't be bad thing.

You start out in a different tense
Falkner Trevis is a man of high intelligence

He wrote about what he found and what lies in wait for others...lay

Here you begin the sentence again whilst a comma would suffice and/or remove the 'or'
He wasn't young, but he was defiantly not old. Or his actions didn't show it, at least.

Not but three hours ago He was found, facedown ans they were all connected

but all in all pretty good stuff.

[JirQUEST]

urm. use the spell-check. the synopsis on its own was filled with spelling mistakes. it can be quite discouraging to read the text even before readers have gotten to it.

[EternalPen]

interesting..., I write all my stuff on microsoft word. Guess it didn't catch everything. Oh, well... I'll just double check everything from now on. Sorry about that guys. >_<

[angel]

Originally Posted by EternalPen

interesting..., I write all my stuff on microsoft word. Guess it didn't catch everything. Oh, well... I'll just double check everything from now on. Sorry about that guys. >_<

lol EP i do thatn still miss bits. anywayz excellent piece

[EternalPen]

Thank you very much!

[xtremelady]

Thought was a very imaginative idea which worked exceptionally well as a short story. The idea has the potential to be expanded on enormously too. Thought was a very gd read, not perfect, but the little imperfections did not distract from my enjoyment of the story at all, the end was very fulfilling 2. n1

Claire

[Peppy]

That was interesting. I thought the story was interesing to read. There seemed to be a little Edgar Allan Poe-ish sound to the story. I don't know why I hear it in the story.

As for the grammatical errors, you don't need to be told twice (and this is an old post too) that there are a lot. Nonetheless, it was an awesome read and creative. I love imps, for some reason.

[crackdaddy]

Very interesting man, the ending really had a poetic quality to it that I thought was just great. The thing with the eyes, wonderful writing there.

One thing i found difficult to get past though was the beginning. There didnt seem to be a whole lot of emotion involved in the death of an old friend. The way it was written it just came off as "o well, business as usual, my friend who i knew well enough to be entrusted with his whole life's pursuits just bought the farm, better go tell some people." i would've liked to see a lot more detail there, and really in most of the rest now that i think about it. I found nothing here that would keep my mind wandering back as I try to read the next story. Indeed I doubt I'll remember even reading it in half an hour. Good but forgettable

I've seen your work dude, you can do better

[EternalPen]

And this is old.

Thank you, though! I'll put that to mind!