The Typewriter

A red light shone through the dark hallway. Fear encapsulated Idris as he slowly crept towards the door. Slow, soft footsteps sounded from the other side. First a quiet hum, increasing to a steady scream, the pain never ending. Suddenly, the sound stopped, replaced by the falling of books. The door cracked open, inch by inch, until…

“AEeeeEEeee!”

“Wow, I really scared you!”

“Dillion! How many times have I told you to knock! I’m in the middle of writing!”

“What Cad, did you think I was a ghooooooost?”

He ignored him, turning his back on his brother's pranks and focusing on the typewriter.

She jumped out, her black hair covering her hollow eyes. A foul smell filled the halls. A smell that reeked of medicine and mold. She tried to seem frightening, by raising her clawed hands filled with dust, but she could not hide her tears. Her hands shook and her lip quivered with the pressure of her heart fighting back.

Cad stopped writing, stretching his tired hands behind his sore back with relief. He had somehow managed to start his first book after weeks of writer's block. On top of that, he had just moved into his friends house to take care of it after his mysterious disappearance. He wasn’t one to believe in superstitions, but his brother Dillion was. Dillion’s constant pleas to leave the house were in vain as Cad had promised his friends' family that he would care for his house until his reappearance.

———————————————————————————————————

“You know why I’m here… You know what you need to do. Release me. Let me enter your body. Let me take your soul. I can achieve so much. Just one night. Just. One. Night.”

“Cad! Wake up! Dude, what’s your problem?”

“What?”

“Who’s Idris?”

“Idris….., from my book.”

“You need to take a break. That book is seriously getting to your head.”

“It was…. just a nightmare, it’s not the book.”

But it was. Cad got out of bed and switched on his table lamp above his typewriter. 

“What? I don’t understand…” he muttered.

There, on the crisp white sheets, were the words uttered by the ghost in his dream. Her pleas and threats were there, her exhausted explaining, and Cad’s screaming. 

“I didn’t type this.”

“Cad, you're crazy. I thought I was the superstitious one!” Now come, let’s get breakfast. I could eat a horse!”

Dillion grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door. But Cad couldn’t take his eyes off the typewriter.

—————————————————————————————————————-

Idris held his breath as he stood in the bathroom, staring at his unkempt hair and red eyes in the mirror. He rested his hands atop the dirty glass, taking a minute to catch his breath. The ghost had messed with his life, his mind. He lived every minute in fear. He looked up, only to find himself staring at the very monster that had destroyed  his peace. The same black curtain of hair, the same white eyes. His heart pounded, his eyes wide. His chest heaved at the sight of her. An awfully familiar face. Terrifying, yet mystical. 

“What do you want? Please, take anything and leave!” he pleaded. 

“You.. Idris I need you…” she rasped. 

“Dang it! Dillion can you clean this up! I spilled coffee all over myself…” 

“Seriously Cad?”

“Thanks!”

He walked over to the bathroom, complaining as each step was followed by the sloshing of his shirt. He grabbed a towel, drying the coffee spill, while staring at himself in the mirror. 

“Hah, just like in my book.”

He smiled to himself, looking at his neatly combed brown hair and his crisp clean shirt. 

“Except I look much neater!”

He continued to dab the coffee stains, and eventually, he was left with a light brown splotch. He looked at the mirror one more time.

“Idris……”

Startled by the voice, he ran downstairs, unable to scream, his throat dry.

“Dillion!”

“What? I’m in the middle of a … what happened to you?”

“DillIon, I heard her voice… the ghost… in the book..”

“Cad! Seriously dude pull it together. There’s nothing there. It was probably just the wind. It’s a book!” He rolled his eyes, turning his head towards the television.

Cad walked back upstairs in fear, gripping the railings as he crept towards his room. He sat down on his bed, staring off into space. He thought and thought, and then thought again. The voice, the mysterious text on the typewriter. Could they be linked? 

He sat down in front of the typewriter, staring at its keys in confusion. He waved his hand over the table, making sure there were no strings attached. 

Nothing. 

“I need a break”.

Throwing on a jacket, Cad made his way towards the front door, eager to get out and go for a walk despite the sharp cold winds that were traveling through the UK.

 He moved over to the door, raising his hand to the knob, but was met with a sudden chill. He pulled back his hand and tried again. The knob twisted and Cad pushed, but the door refused to budge. He pushed with all of his weight, and yet nothing seemed to happen.

“Dillion! Can you come here?”

“What, my good sir?” he questioned, sarcastically.

“Open the door”.

“What? Cad I’m going to call a doctor”. 

“Open. The. Door”.

Dillion stared into his brother’s red, tired eyes. In confusion, he turned the knob, and shoved the door open. 

“But.. it was stuck!”

“Mhmm. Now, do you want to go or not?”

Cad did. He wanted to go out. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t able to leave the house. But one thing was clear; the ghost had something to do with all of this. 

“The typewriter”. 

He ran upstairs, his mind racing with thoughts filled with anxiety. He shoved his door open, and slowly, he crept towards the table. Slowly. Very, very slowly. Somehow, silence managed to drown out his brother’s calls from downstairs. 

He reached out to his old, rusty typewriter that he had used for years. His fingers shook as he forced himself to look at the paper lodged into the machine. 

And there it was. Everything that had happened to him was mysteriously engraved on the paper. 

“DILLION!”

“Hushhh Idris. Hush”.

In shock, he tumbled over, falling into his hard wooden floor. His heart pounded out of his chest, his eyes burning from imaginary flashing lights. 

"Finally you realize the truth……."

"What… what are you?"

"Idris...it's me".

"I don't know who you are! Please, leave me alone. I'm not Idris! He's a character in my book!"

"Foolish boy. Be quiet. I need Idris. Idris, come to me. Come my boy. Come to me".

Suddenly, Cad felt his lungs slowly collapse. He gasped for air, clenching his neck. He clawed at the floor, unable to process what was happening. 

"Rachel".

A voice at the back of his head screamed the haunting name. The voice got louder, drowning Cad's screams. His eyes shut, and he was unable to open them again. Cad felt himself falling, falling into the depths of his mind, into a hole filled with thoughts. 

"Rachel".

Cad was gone, unable to get back up. He was aware of everything, but he was tied down by the voice.

"Idris, come to me. Come, we can take revenge on my killer. Please".

"No….no we can't. I want to live. I want to stay. I worked so hard to kill Cad's ridiculous friend just so that I can access his typewriter. I'm changing our lives, Rachel. Everything I'm typing is coming true. Just let me finish my story. Let me end it right here. We don't need to get revenge. Please!"

Cad was fighting the force holding him done. He used every bit of life he had left to force the voice out of his head. 

"Idris… who killed me?"

Cad's arm lifting to his throat as air rushed into his body. He was coming back, slowly pushing his way through the depths of his mind. 

"Rachel, he's fighting".

Indeed he was. Cad was angry. Frustrated that his mind was taken over.

"Idris…  who. Killed. Me".

Cad was seconds away from regaining his senses, seconds away from being in control.

"It was I".

Idris's last words floated through the air as Cad had finally gained control. He sat up, dazed and tired. He looked up, hoping that the ghost had disappeared. But he had never been so wrong.

"You. You killed me Idris. You killed me!" she screeched as she swooped down, covering Cad with her dry arms.

Cad pleaded. Pleaded for his life. But she didn't listen. Rachel's hands covered his eyes, and within seconds, he was gone. 

"Cad! Bro, I'm sorry about earlier. Let's get some pizza!"

Dillion ran upstairs in hope that he would be able to cheer his brother up.

He walked into Cad's dark, musty room, only to find out that his brother wasn't there. 

"Crazy kid. Probably went outside".

Dillion walked over to the typewriter, a rare opportunity to see what made Cad so obsessed with writing.

"Oh..my god".

The keys moved up and down, engraving random letters onto the page. 

Dillion

"Impossible…"

But it was very possible. In fact, it was the truth. 

Help me.