Godlessmonkey will be away from the computer for a month on a much needed holiday. While I’m gone I’m rerunning some of my multi-part stories for the benefit of those who might not have read them the first time around or would like to read them again. I’ll be back with new stories from October 16th. Thank you all for your support.
Ivan wrote well into the night, but as he did he couldn’t keep the events of the past two days far from his mind. Still, the words flowed and at times he felt a sense of lightness that brought some welcome relief. He only had a few characters fleshed out in his mind, and he was introducing two in the first chapter, the main protagonist and his girlfriend. The storyline was one he had been working on for nearly a year, about a criminal mastermind looking to pull off one last big job before he disappeared once and for all. The character had been developing in his mind rapidly over the last few months. At times he felt as if he knew him as a real person. He could picture him so well it was easy to write him. A tall, brooding loner with a secret past that fuelled his need to outsmart everyone. Cold and calculating, always in control, willing to do anything. A dangerous man, but a charmer who could manipulate at will.
Satisfied that it was going well, he finally put down his pen and sat back and rubbed his eyes. He thought again about the events that had turned his world upside down and once again felt the burden of it all. The sense of unreality was hard to shake, and yet he had seen events he had written come to life. He shook his head and pondered. He could never again write anything about anyone he knew for fear they would come to harm. It was impossible, and yet it was happening. He went to bed and fell asleep quickly, but tossed and turned through the night. Something he was blocking was trying to get through. He got up the next morning feeling tired and sullen.
After a shower and a leisurely breakfast his thoughts turned once again to his novel and he sat down at his desk. Tapping the pen against his lips he reread the previous days efforts and then set to work once again. On a roll, he wrote throughout the afternoon and into early evening, the ideas coming quickly. He concentrated on character development at a level he had never achieved before, and marvelled at the ease with which it all came, almost as if the characters had a will of their own. Several times he made changes to his original ideas without quite understanding why, but feeling compelled to go with the flow.
Just as he was deciding he needed to take a break and stretch there was a knock at the door. Not expecting anyone, Ivan was reluctant to answer. Moving the curtain aside slightly he peeked out. A man stood on the step, his face turned away, so Ivan couldn’t really see, but it didn’t look like anyone he knew. The knock came again, this time more persistent.
“Ivan, I know you’re in there, open the door. We need to talk.”
His heart beating faster, a sense of dread beginning to rise, Ivan sat down and thought. That voice. He had heard it before. A chill came over him as he realized where he had heard it. In his head. This couldn’t be happening. Suddenly the door was being banged on violently. Ivan got up and moved toward it, his hand shaking as he reached for the knob. He had no more than turned it when the door flew open and the stranger stepped in, grinning maniacally.
Tomorrow: Part 5