Page 1

January 11th, 2019.

It’s been roughly a month. A month since I took on dreamwalking. I didn’t ask for it. It just happened. One day I fell asleep and I appeared at a school. Awful right? I go to school all day, go home and try to sleep but I wind back up at a terrifying school. Everyone there is my definition of crazy. I’m not talking about the little old lady who sits on a park bench and talks to pigeons. I’m talking about the murderous type. The type that makes your neck hairs stand up. It’s creepy.

I should probably introduce myself now that I have explained my entire predicament shouldn’t I? My name is Eliot. I’m fifteen and I should probably be in a psych ward. Except, everytime I explain what is happening to me, whoever I tell, they disappear. No trace, no goodbye, just poof gone. Last week it was my parents. So you see, I can’t bear to let this secret out. Now, just in case vanishment is transferable through writing, you have roughly two weeks before you disappear. So, I’d get your will in order if I were you.

Do I mean to scare you, you ask? Well, no. I don’t. But I can’t bear to hide any longer. I need to get out of Drakehills. I think I’m slowly losing my sanity. The time I spend at Drakehill Hollow, is getting longer. More dangerous. I fear, I will die soon.

Page 2

January 12th, 2019

I should never have written in this journal. But I fear it is too late to stop now. The hounds were scratching at my door last night. Their vicious snarls let no one near sleep. I regretfully inform that I woke up still in my room here at Drakehills Hollow. They tried to smoke me out. But they can’t I am smart you see. My gas mask is very handy.

They still come by and try to get through the door. But I am already planning my escape.

I am sad to tell you, you have thirteen days left. I heard them talking and it is confirmed. The time you have from being told is two weeks. But time passes by slowly here. Who knows how long it has actually been for you. I still have no idea if this vanishment process is transferable through writing but I must assume that it is. Forgive me!

Page 3

January 13th, 2019

They are getting desperate to get to me. There is no mercy. For i have told. I broke the rules, for surely, this is my end. I have, two, three days at most. Please! Do not let this book fall into the innocent’s hands! For I see you. I know the man who hurts your daughter. Give this book to him! My hauntings will burn through his soul. Just as Drakehills has mine. You must hurry! They are getting in. I may not be able to hold off much longer!

Page 4

January 14th, 2019

I have saved myself some time. I do not know how much. I set traps outside my door when I knew they were gone. I believe I got a hound. I heard its whimper. One such of that of a kitten. For I will not go down so easily. I must hurry. There is less time for you. You have eleven days! And I less!

This curse of a secret will not die with me. But with many others. Get this book into the evil man’s hands and you can die easily knowing he will hurt her no more. Tonight you will dream of the man and you will know who this shall belong to next. Otherwise I stay with you. You’d put your daughter in danger. Now, sir! I know you don’t want that. So make the sacrifice. Before you die give this to the man in cold blood. But first. I will need a drop of your blood on the cover to pass on from you. I cannot save you sir. But I will help you.

Page 5

January 15th, 2019

I know you have not given it to him yet, sir. I am holding off for you. But I really don’t have much time. And you don’t either, Mr. Ten-days-left. I know how sick you are. I’ve told you I can see you. So quickly hand the book off. Feed me your blood! For your daughter! Do it for her! Did you not know I can speed up your days?

Hand me off, or I half your days.

Page 1

January 16th, 2019

Hello my dear sir. Congratulations. Soon the man who delivered this book to you will die. I should start off with an introduction, but I will refrain for today. Check back tomorrow and I shall tell you more about me. I have a secret I must tell you. Drakehills Hollow. It’s a prison. It also does exist, but not in your reality. It was a mistake that was built over 800 years ago. This is where I reside. I shall now tell you that you have fourteen days to live. Spend them wisely.

Page 2

January 17th, 2019

Oh I’m sure you are curious about me. My name is Eliot Riddle. I am eight years old in accordance to your world’s time. I also know about the sexual abuse you have inflicted upon Miss Walker. Such a sweet young thing isn’t she? Oh, don’t bother turning yourself in. I can’t tell anyone. My only form of communication is this book. However, it does need to be fed so you won’t die prematurely. You may have noticed the wonderful red stain on the cover of this book, it’s its previous handlers blood.

My book has to live on. If you don’t feed it, it will feed itself. and believe me sir, Mortimor is not gentle. You shall take good care of this book, any attempt to destroy it will shorten you a day. You cannot destroy Mortimor. You now have thirteen days left to live. In those thirteen days you must find a new handler for my book. If you don’t you will spend the rest of eternity in Drakehills Hollow. There you will get your own book that you must have passed on. I’m sure one sacrifice in order to save many and your dear soul is worth it. Is it not?

Page 3

January 18th, 2019

I see you attempted to rip the pages out of my dear Mortimor, and as a result your hand has fallen victim to rapidly growing and spontaneous gangrene. Oh dear me. Don’t you know not to damage other people’s possessions. You have eleven days left.

I’m sure by now you have realized that you must hand off the book. It’s bad news carrying such a thing around. Do you remember that drunk driver who killed your brother? Did you know that he is out on parole? Why, yes. Yes he is.

His address will appear to you in a dream tonight. Pass this book onto him within your last eleven days and my your soul be saved!

I shall also delightfully inform you that it has been one week since Mortimor landed in his first handler’s possession. Oh Poor Mr. Watson! He was a good man!

And you are not.

Page 4

January 19th, 2019

My, my, my. You’re much ballsier than I expected you to be my evil sir! You attempted to stab my precious pet, Mortimor! Why, you hurt his feelings! If this goes ten hours with no apology you will die immediately! Better hurry up and deliver my book!

Page 1

January 20th, 2019

Why hello you devilish drunkard. I know what you've done. Who you've killed. See you killed my pets previous handler's brother. Oh bless the innocent. But you! Oh, ho ho! You my diabolical fiend! You are not innocent at all! I'm sure you wish to know who I am! Oh yes, I'm positive! I won't tell you. Not today, no.

Oh go ahead! Flip through the pages! All are blank but this one! See you're stuck with my dear pet Mortimor. He must be fed a drop of your blood within the time you possess him. He's quite hungry! If you fail to oblige to my instructions, you will die.

Kidding! You'll die anyway! But following my instructions just might save your soul. Carrying out my requests is for the good of mankind. My Pet's first handler has five days left. Left of what you ask? Of life my good friend! I should tell you, that this book is a death sentence. Whoops!

Page 2

January 21st, 2019

So, now I might tell you why my dear pet Mortimor has fallen into your lap. But it's so little fun! So instead, I shall tell you why my book exists.

See, Mortimor claimed my father's life. My father did not listen to the books owner. Surprise, surprise. What else would you expect from a lousy old drunkard. I was fifteen. If you refuse to oblige to the owner of the Devil's Book, Mortimor, it passes on to your next of kin. Which of course happened to be me. See, my mother left us when I was eight. So my mother was free of the Book's curse. When the book falls into one's hands, they die within two weeks. My death sentence, was a book.

Now, I was born in 1687. My father's sentence in Drakehills Hollow was eternal. But he played a nasty trick. He bartered me for his freedom. I took his place in the lowly depths of hell and he got his staircase to the upstairs.

I will assume you will try to avoid this fate. But I will warn you, it is not possible. Mortimor is the Devil's Book. He has no mercy. In order to keep him from consuming your life prematurely, you must prick your finger on the fountain pen, His tooth. Then stamp your blood onto the cover of this book. This should keep him from inhaling your essence while you sleep.

Page 3

January 22nd, 2019

Why, feel guilty do you? You're the first to listen to my first instruction. My second instruction will come to you in a dream. I know the man who took your wife from you. Oh! You didn't know? You thought she just left! Oh! Yes she left you for a man and they reside in the bahamas. His address will come to you in the night. Send this book first thing in the morning.

Page 1

January 25th, 2019

Why hello sir. I know your secrets and lies. I know that you do not own the house of which you live in. How you ask? Your brother’s name is on the deed. I also know you killed your own wife. Oh I am sorry, I mean Mr. Chester’s wife. Oh! How I love the frightened pale expression I am seeing on your face. See I know about how you pimped her out. For money. You made it so she depended on you! Oh that poor soul! You used her lack of independence for your own gain. Because no! No Dr. Bart, no-no-no! You are not rich! Not at all. Yes she had an affair because her husband was in prison, but you! You are far worse. What’s that you say? Don’t ruin your reputation as a doctor? Oh no! I’d never! But, I would. I would definitely do that. If I had the resources and could. But you see this book is my prison. I cannot leave. And anybody who sees the inside of this book dies. But don’t worry you have two weeks. OH! Turn on your TV! Why won’t you? I want to watch. Here, I’ll turn it on for you. See that bloody pulp on the ground? Ah yes! that is my dear pet’s first handler. I see I have forgotten to introduce the two of you. Dr. Bart, this book, is my dear pet Mortimor. He’s also responsive to the title of the Devil’s Book! I highly suggest that you follow all my instruction’s to the ‘T’.

I shall tell you, I do not like you Dr. Bart. For you remind me of my good-for-nothing lousy father. So I do not know why I am dying to tell you everything. Of course I won’t, it ruins the entire mystery of my being! For there is an explanation for everything. At least a small minded human like you would not understand. Oh, did I wound your ego? I can’t say I’m sorry, you needed to be knocked down a notch.

Page 2

January 26th, 2019

Are you ready my good sir? Don’t make me laugh, your first assignment. At the end of our time together you are going to wish that you never met Missus Annie Chester. I will burn the heart out of you before you even know what had happened. Oh, still think this is a dream do you? I am ecstatic to tell you this is very, very, real. Don’t you see sir? I control your life now! Oh, Oh my. The prison hounds are back. Damn, I hate those things. You will recieve your first task while you sleep. I must hurry in hopes that they won’t find Mortimor. Do what you are instructed to do, or when you wake up you will have ten days left rather than twelve. Do not test me. It will not end pleasurably for you.

Page 3

January 27th, 2019

Ah, I can’t say I am not surprised. You didn’t do what you were told. Whats that? You refuse to listen to a book? Despite the book proving itself to be magic, and also said to belong to the devil? Why you are quite ballsy. You have ten days left, and I will not defend you from Mortimor any longer. Mortimor you have two minutes my pet. Choose wisely, yes?

Oh, goodie! I love watching my pet have fun. But I don’t enjoy watching him kill prematurely. Oh well. Off to hell you go, and off to your brother I go.

#supernatural #thriller #journal #diary

Page 1

January 28th, 2019

Hello there brother, I’m sorry to say I was not the one who killed your brother. The book you are reading, however is responsible for the death of him. Your brother was not a good man, no he was far from it. Still he is dead none the less. He did however, curse you before his death. By refusing to acknowledge the powers my pet Mortimor has, he killed himself as well as gave you your death sentence.

You see, anybody who reads this book dies. Don’t start worrying now brother. You have two weeks so long as you listen to everything I, and my book have to say.

Before we send you off on your tasks I’d love to speak to you. Or, I guess at you since you can’t really reply. My name is Eliot Riddle. I own the book in your hands. He is my pet, my companion. Some call him the Devil’s Book. This isn’t quite true. He is A Devil’s Book. Not The Devil’s Book. That would be Horace, such a nasty pet, that one. Now I reveal myself to you. My horn and tail prove that I am one of the sons of The Devil. I am a Demi-Devil should you call it. My father was the first to die at Horace’s hands. I the second. See, everytime the book Horace moves a generation we become less devil-blooded. A problem seeing as there are too many souls in Hell, alternatively called Drakehills Hollow, for all of us to watch over. So when Horace introduced us to more Changeling books we saw a chance to increase our numbers. It was quite clever. Every sould consumed by my book Mortimor becomes a Demon.

Now I choose my demons to be those who were assholes in real life. Your world could use a lot less rapists, theives, murderers, drunks, and what else. Sadly, for both of us, because your brother did not hand off my book before dying, the sisters of fate have twisted your life and you are now destined to become a demon.

If you do as I say, then you will be doing good. That is all for today, as my arm is tired and I can no longer write. I shall return to you tomorrow.

Page 2

January 29th, 2019

Hello again brother. I am glad to see you taking care of my precious pet. However, my dear Mortimor must be fed. Yes, you are correct Changeling books feed on blood. My you would make a wonderful librarian in Drakehills. I think I shall see about procuring you a position at the library of historical malinformaties. I wish I could be surprised that you know what you do about the history of Hell. But I already know you.

So, in order to feed Mortimor he needs one drop of blood. Yes, that is perfect thank you. I have no other instructions for you, so let’s chat somemore.

Here in Drakehills, or what you would call hell, our system has been quite fucked. Due to our depleting numbers from hunters, and the ever growing number of souls we recieve, not enough souls are getting to where they need to be. You humans are actually hurting yourselves.

There are many things that can change human blood. The plague for one, the entire reason it occured was due to the fact that to many of Drakehills-kind was being slaughtered, and we could no longer continue serving the souls. Souls that belonged in heaven were stuck in line in hell. There wasn’t enough of us. My job is to keep another plague from happening. It’s hard but it might be possible for us to do.

Page 3

January 30th, 2019

Good evening, brother. I suspect you understand what I meant when you slept, yes? That is correct I need my pet Mortimor delivered to that address tonight. I fear I have told you too much.

#horror #thriller #fiction #supernatural

Page 1

January 31st, 2019

Hello there milady. I did not expect the thief to be a lady. This just won't do. Not at all. My, you are quite rude. Didn't your parents ever teach you not to be rude? I like your fangs, but that just makes everything more complicated now doesn't it? Werewolves aren't automatically sent to hell. No they take the express line to purgatory. I am surprised that we don't have you on our radar. Nevertheless I shall fix this. I'm sorry to spoil your supper of Granny, my Lady in Red. You only have fourteen days to live. My deepest apologies.

And, you just slammed Mortimor shut... such a rude lady. Mortimor, she now has twelve days left.

Page 2

February 1st, 2019

Yuck! You disgusting Dog! How dare you take a piss on the Devil's Book? Ten days! You have ten days left you mangy mutt. Yes I know you're appearance is human. But that is dog blood in you child! Sit!

Let me tell you a story of your origins.

Long ago, your kind ruled the world alongside the vampire race. Things all changed when the king of your kind passed away. His son, the prince, convinced all of you were-beasts that the king was poisoned. He led a rebellion against their moonlit allies and the peace treaty was broken. The vampires hid themselves away for a hundred years in Romania. Locked inside a castle. They formed a barrier of silver flowers around their castle to keep the werewolves out. And it worked.

On the full moon of the Hundreth year, there was bloodshed from a single vampire. One flower turned blood red and allowed the werewolves in. The werewolves a race of savage strength, and the vampires a race of noble power were at war once again. It is said that all of both races died that day except for six children. One, a baby in red.

Page 3

Febuary 2nd, 2019

That baby in red was your mother. I regret to say you have nine days left now. Give your mother my apologies. I did not mean to entangle myself into her race's affairs.

If you could kindly leave my book on the doorstep of the first house you see tonight, it'd be much appreciated.

Page 1

February 3rd, 2019

Hello there my dear. You don't have fangs, now, do you? I'm just checking! It appears I made a mistake with my book's previous handler. Whoops! Now, I do know who you are Miss Walker. Daughter of dear old Mr. Watson. His funeral was peaceful I hope? Why, yes! I did know dear old dad! And guess what! I'm why he is dead! Oh don't even bother Sylvia. You won't find me. Better yet, you can't find me. It's impossible. I'm not in your world. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I will not allow you to speak in that tone young lady. Mortimor, eat her tongue!

Ah. Much better. now you can truly listen to what I have to say my dear. Listen carefully now, you only have fourteen days to live. And I believe Mortimor has instructed you on what it means to be disrespectful. Would you stop making such obscene gestures? Honestly, your father was such a gentleman and yet you are so rude. I've only just given you you're death sentance.

Now I do know what you do in the night. That you stand on street corners in the dark. Waiting for the next John to pick you up. I know where your bruises come from, and your reason for wearing so much makeup. I know all. I know that you stand on the corner of Seventh St. and Pleasant. Your father would be so disappointed! In fact, even I'm disappointed. He gave his life protecting you. You should be grateful you slut.

Page 2

February 4th, 2019

I see you went out again last night. Are you certain that this is how you want to earn money? Sylvia I see you have already bled on my dear pet. It must be from your tongue. How did your, how should I say, client, respond to that? I bet he didn't know that that groan was your safe word. Did he at least pay you out of a law suit?

I can help you get revenge on him, miss. Would you appreciate some revenge on the man who didn't listen? You shake your head no, but I can see what's really inside you Sylvia. It's humanity, wanting revenge on those who have wronged you. And it feels so good when you finally get it. Such a stubborn foolish girl, still rejecting my offer. It doesn't matter Sylvia, you are still dying. You have thirteen days left. You're bound to be begging me to help you get revenge soon.

Page 3

February 5th, 2019

Aren't you just tired of me yet? I could get you your dignity back you know. I am aware that you spent all day cooped up inside. Why won't you let me help you, you silly girl? You must be aching for the taste of revenge, my dear. So why won't you just give in. You could die in peace knowing that the one who had wronged you was being punished! Let me give you justice and get out of your hair! Is that a nod I see? Meet him, meet him tonight. Don't get in his car, but sneak my book into his back seat. He will pay for what he's done to you Sylvia. Enjoy your twelve days left, my dear.

#fantasy #horror #thriller #mystery #crime #bloodlust #fiction

Page 1

February 6th, 2019

Why hello there! You are not who I was expecting. But it is already too late I am afraid. Poor Ms. Sylvia Walker will never get her revenge now. Oh that poor soul. Oh my, you know her? What is your name "jersey number eight"? Ah yes, I do know you.

You love her, you say? Ah. Would you do anything for her? The man, the one who owns this car that gave you a ride home. You must pass this book onto him. It is her wish. And go, your love is dying and so are you. Go spend your last days with dear Ms. Sylvia Walker

Page 1

February 8th, 2019

Well, hello Mr. Jones. What were you? Scared? It took you forever to open my book. Did you know why I appeared? You must've. You see, five days ago I met a prostitute named Sylvia. Her street name was Celeste Williams. You may have noticed she had suddenly lost her tongue. I am here to fulfill her dying wish. Yes, she's dying. Why do you humans always seem to doubt me? So stupid. Oh! I should tell you, this book is a death sentence. Yes! Yes, I'm being serious, you good for nothing nincompoop. I'm glad you're dying, don't want you having idiotic offspring running around.

Yes, Mortimor, I am aware that that was an exceedingly rude thing for me to say. I don't quite care though. So I'm unsure why a devil's book is. Silly pet. Excuse me and my pet, Mr. Jones. It seems we have some differences to work out.

Page 2

February 9th, 2019

Hello again Mr. Jones. I'm glad to see you actually reading this book again. Now, let's cut to the chase. You knew that the Jane you were seeing did not have a tongue. I also know that you knew she was attempting to say the safe word. What, you didn't think she had people looking out for her? Yes, yes, Mortimor, I know I am the reason she is dying but that is unimportant. Hey- What- Mortimor! Stop that!

Hello Mr. Jones. It is now I, Mortimor speaking to you. My owner has lost sight of why I exist and what is important. I suggest you do what he says or I might have to kill you prematurely. Although I live on the souls and blood I consume, I do not enjoy killing. It dirties my skin and my pages become soaked and stained. I was once a beautiful being. But I have been collared and chained to do the young master's bidding.

Mortimor you selfish good for nothing pig. Do not defy me again or I will lock you in the cage past the river downstairs. I knew it was only a moment until my young Mortimor would turn against the hand that feeds him. However, he tells the truth. I do not wish to kill anyone. Actually, thats a big fat lie. But you couldn't tell from my writing now, could you? My sparkling cursive catching the eye of whoever reads this. The red ink captifying my next demon knight. That is you. And oh what a joy it will be to watch Sylvia command you. She's got quite a bit of spunk that one does. You will spend all of eternity kissing her ass. Oh that sends chills up my spine! Before I forget, my dear Mortimor needs a drop of blood on his cover. Yes, yours! Who did you think I meant? Your mother? Oh? She was attacked by a wolf? Intriguing! I know a wolf!

I think one of us has spoken too much for tonight.

Page 3

February 10th, 2019

I really am getting quite bored of you. You're so uninteresting, and what's worse. You didn't listen to me. Consider this your punishment, both of you! Mortimor, kill him. And make it bloody.