Stories intertwined

                                         ‘Stories intertwined’

Mason did not generally talk much. One might say that he preferred the company of scribbled pages and melodic music, more than he did that of people. He enjoyed a quiet night, and rarely ever partied, by any definition. He only left the secure four walls of his home when he absolutely had to, like when he was starving and the only remotely edible thing in his house was his dog Benny. In modern lingo, he would be summed up as an introvert.

Mercifully, Mason is a writer, which arguably is the most fitting job for him, as it allows him to indulge in isolation. The only ironic part about this man’s existence is that for all his isolative tendencies, he could read people like an open book. He could meet a person once and he could instantly have a character inspired from them. His books are full of faces from the grocery store, the library, and even the dog park. Although this is definitely the least eerie part of his books, seeing as they are all horror novels. Even now, he is engrossed in furiously typing of a large three-headed cyclops who is chasing a pregnant woman (one might say she has an uncanny resemblance to the cashier at his nearest supermarket).

“Ugh take a break! It’s a beautiful day outside you hermit!”

“It’s a beautiful day inside, too my dear.”

Lena. Mason’s girlfriend, and only human that he can tolerate for longer than the duration of a conversation consisting solely of the exchange of pleasantries. She was very similar to him in every way you could imagine. She kept to herself and to her secluded walls, just like he does. He met her when he was doing some press for his latest book. She was helping out at the local bookstore and she immediately exclaimed her admiration to him. They had only been dating for two months, but she was already comfortable enough to tease him for the endless hours he spent behind the bright screen. Even for her, it was too much.

Mason didn’t always open up to people. He considered it a waste of time, seeing as he had his characters to play with. Real people were temporary, too radical. But he felt like he knew Lena better than he knew the words that spilled out of him onto the blank pixels. He had come to realize that she was worth his valuable time, even after considering the impermanence of this incidental affair.

“I really hope you’ve saved your work honey." She said this in a sarcastic tone, as she pressed the power-off button on his ancient desktop computer.

“What do you think you’re doing? I’ve been working on this page for the last three hours!” Nothing could get him more riled up than someone messing with his work.

“Relax! I’d just like your attention to be on me, once in a blue moon”. God, he adored her face when she got all needy. He got off his seat and walked over to where she was now standing, by the tiny kitchen bench. He wrapped his arms around her, and allowed his mind to relax, for what felt like the first time in days.

“How about, we go on a walk, and then as soon as possible we creep back into the dark hole that we emerged from?” She laughed at that, and went to grab the dog leash.

Part two

It was the beginning of fall and now more than ever Mason stayed in his small, happy place. He regularly thought that it was unheard of to replace his warm blankets and tight hugs, with the useless, voluntarily torturous casual communication.

“I have a surprise for you”, Lena was quite predictable to him, so this was indeed a surprise. He could tell exactly what she was thinking, feeling, wanting, doing, craving, all the time. It felt like he was in one body, but contained two minds. He was taken aback, as he was staring at the pieces of paper she was holding in her small hands.

“We’re going on a trip!”, she said excitedly.

She was holding the print of a confirmation e-mail for a hotel booking. He had never heard of the name. “There has to be a depressed security man or psychotic receptionist I could base a character on”, was the first thing he thought of. He felt comfort knowing that 4 walls would still contain him. He asked her where it was and she explained that it was in a quiet, remote village called “Karonley”. It sounded to him like a place he would write about in one of his horror novels...and somehow that did not invoke comfort. But he found himself feel excited that he could spend some time with his girl, and simultaneously he wondered if he could fit his laptop in the suitcase.

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The day of the trip finally arrived, and he was maniacally gathering scattered transcripts and notes from every surface of the house. He had left enough food and water for Benny, already.

“You’re not actually planning on working on the weekend away I planned. Please tell me this statement is correct."

“I’m just preparing in case we get bored”, he reassured her, as if she would actually believe that.

The day she said she was a fan, he knew she would support him, and he is thankful she endlessly listens to his crazy ideas and leaves him to his own devices when needed. Which tends to be quite often. So they loaded her car and began making the 4-hour long journey. It was quite strange, as it felt like this car ride was the most time of substance he had spent with her. That did not feel right, but could it be? Could singing along to commercial music and making random remarks be the most worthwhile their relationship had ever been? He ignored the thoughts as he was belting ‘My heart will go on’, in his most successful Celine Dion impersonation. She did not seem to stop smiling.

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What he thought was a hotel, was more like a glorified cabin. It seemed quite large, and it was surrounded by tall trees and bird noises. He was surprised there even was a pathway for the car to drive. They settled their bags and decided to take a look around the area. He was sure he had written about this ghost-town before in one of his books. Although he couldn’t remember anymore, all his stories had melted into one. He thought that if he doesn’t remember, he might as well write another one.

“Let’s go light the fireplace!”, Lena had never seemed so excited, he wondered if he just hadn’t noticed before.

“We can use your failed transcripts to enhance the spark, how about that?” He knew she was joking but it just did not sit well with him. He never tolerated anyone mocking the one thing he was passionate about. He told himself he should also be passionate about her, and did not respond. He led her to the fireplace, and let her have her moment as he was lost in thought, as usual.

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The moments passed faster than he expected. He found it curious when she poured him a drink of white wine, as she knew he did not drink. When he started to protest, she insisted on toasting on their first getaway. She smiled widely. He knew alcohol affected him faster than your average Joe. This time, he started to feel light-headed in record time. Lena’s voice blurred in the background as his eyes opened and closed heavily. He felt every breath harder than ever before. He tried to stand up, but it seemed futile to try to find his bearings. He stumbled back on his seat, as he felt cold hands on him. He tried again to fight back all the weight on his eyelids to see what was happening but he couldn’t. He could hear the wood in the fire still crackling. And then there was nothing.

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Finally! Finally, he could open his eyes! He couldn’t hear the fire anymore. The images in front of his eyes were still blurry. His head hurt, so he moved to touch it. But he couldn’t. Why couldn’t he move? It felt like his arms were held by something. He hurried to clear the image of his eyes, and he finally realized why he could not move. There were ropes around his arms and legs, tying him to the bed. He consequently quickly realized they were in the bedroom.

“Lena? Lena, where are you?”

“Oh honey you’re up! Good! This worked better than I thought.”

“If this is some kind of sex game, then you could’ve at least let me in on the game.” He was calming down. He trusted her.

“Unlucky for you, this is nothing like that, my dear.” He started to feel tense again. He had studied Lena very well, but he had never seen her like this. There was something sinister about her. He thought that if he were to write about her right this moment, he would make her a villain.

“This is something much more...” She was walking around the room, caressing the desk across from the bed with her delicate fingertips. That was when he noticed that his laptop and transcripts were on that desk.

“This joke is ridiculous, what are you doing?”

“This isn’t a joke!”, she said as she slammed the table with her fist.

“I have tolerated hell with you Mason. I admired you for a long time, and I longed to meet you. And when I did, it was like a dream come true. And after that, when I started going out with you, I thought I had all I ever wanted.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it as she emphatically told him to shut up.

“I have heard all about your pathetic stories and unoriginal characters, over and over again. It is now time for you to listen to me. I have tried repeatedly to get your attention, to spend time with you, to do things a normal couple would do. And every time, you shut me down. Finally, I know why. You don’t care. You simply don’t care, and I was too foolish not to see. You are just like every other guy in my life.”

“That’s not true!” He realized he was yelling it, when she walked over to him and brought her face a breath’s distance away from his.

“Don’t lie. My curse ends with you.” The words poured out of her like poison. She walked back over to the desk and paused for a second.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, since we have established why we are here, let’s move on to the juicy part. You are addicted to your moronic stories, and don’t take a minute’s time to look around you and see anything else. You think you have me all figured out, don’t you? Well, you would be disappointed to know that, possibly for the first time in your life, you are wrong. See, while you’ve been busy ‘creating’, I have been making a little story of my own. And much like in your stories, there is no happy ending.”

She walked over to the desk, grabbed all of his transcripts and started slowly ripping them apart. He started screaming. He could only make out the work ‘help’ without choking. She walked over to him and with the edges of the papers she started precisely giving him tiny papercuts all over his torso. He screamed and yelled at her to stop, as his face was full of liquid. He couldn’t tell is it was sweat, tears or blood. He could hardly believe what was happening.

“How could you do this? I thought you loved me!”

Half an hour had passed, according to the digital clock beside the bed.

“Wrong again.” She walked over to the desk again. His body was numb.

“The fun part about my story, is that it is technically the end of yours.” She was laughing hysterically now, as she picked up his laptop and threw it on the floor with force.

“Please. PLEASE don’t do this. I beg you.”

At this point, she left the room. She came back with a hammer. He knew this story. He had written a similar story about a mistress who tied up her boyfriend on a bed and smashed his head with a hammer. Based on the flower lady, across the street.

“This is my story, not yours!” He thought this might enrage her. It's what his character would do. He regretted it instantly.

“A little plagiarism is always part of art my love.” She smashed his laptop in, again and again and again. He thought she would never stop. He stopped fighting now. He did not pull against the restraints anymore or yell. He knew how this story would end. His only regret was that he did not see it coming.

“You always saw everyone around you as subjects. Characters for you to use and abuse. You never saw people, humans. So you should be glad to know that you yourself inspired a character. A monster, might describe it better. Because that is what you are.”

“I’m not the one with the hammer in my hand.” He did not care that he was pushing her anymore.

“For once in your life Mason, you are finally going to give the people a satisfying ending. I will make sure they all hear of it, word for word.” She moved closer to him.

“Any last words?”

“I was wrong about you. I misjudged you. You are good at this. No one has fooled me before. Congratulations, you’ve won.” One last desperate attempt to give her what she wanted. She laughed.

“Everyone has fooled you, you are just too arrogant to see it. You don’t know people as much as you think. Maybe you should have taken more time to get to know them. But now, you will never know. Such a shame. You had so much potential. But you are serving one hell of a purpose. You will be a plot twist to remember.” She was running the hammer over his body.

“Just do it!”

“Finally, you begged for it!” She said that as she quickly and swiftly brought the hammer down on his head. It took a single hit. Much less than what the laptop took. Much less pain than what he deserved. She left the bed without looking back and ran out of the room. She did not take a second to consider what she had just done. It had all gone according to plan. She grabbed her things and drove away with such speed, the trees rattled. She was in a hurry.

She had a story to write.