Magic pen and Arthur Sandoval

The pen and Arthur Sandoval

Nightmare’s, the stench of coffee, and cigarettes. What are all these a product of? Being a writer. This is what I thought. I am writing this story from the post-conviction of my transgressions. Let’s start at the beginning.

My name is Arthur, Arthur Sandoval. I am in a wheelchair now. Lost half of my bodies limbs to feed this monster. That God damn pen. That magic pen. I can’t sleep anymore. I can’t sleep! I cannot stay awake either. I’m somewhere in between the world of living and the world of the dead.

The nightmares that are about to unfold are ones of my creation. This beast was self-inflicted. Let’s get to it.

I was 21 and an inspiring writer. I couldn’t catch a break. I kept trying to get involved more in classes and groups, but I was blocked when it happened.

I went to the local swap meet to look at all the booths. Sometimes the Gypsy’s had some cool things. Well, something that caught my eye. It was a pen unlike any pen I had ever seen. Pearl tail with a fancy leather grip. It was old and beautiful. I had to have it. I asked the lady, “How Much?” she replied, “Itsnot for sale.” I sat there a moment then asked, “How about 50 dollars?” She sternly replied, “IT IS NOT FOR SALE!”

Well, everything hinged on this pen. I had to have it. As she turned to dealing with a customer I reached in and took the pen leaving a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. I wish I had left that pen alone. The things that would happen were anything short of Demonic.

I began to write an adventure novel. Believe it or not this book went crazy. Became a bestseller in 2 months. Well, that went well. I loved this pen, so I thought. I was so inspired I wrote an action-packed thriller and again a bestseller! I decided to write a horror book using people in my life. This is where shit went sideways. I started out the book and until Chapter 8 everything was going great. I wrote the abduction that’s when the call came in. “Johnny is missing Arthur!” said my sister. Johnny was my brother-in-law. “I’m sure he will turn up.” I told her. “Yea maybe…..” she said very worried. Chapter 8 was an abduction scene of the brother-in-law in the book. Coincidence I don’t think so in any way.

As I wrote Chapter 10 the buried alive scene phone rang again. “They found him, Arthur!” said my sister. “What? Where?” I asked. “Buried alive in a casket. They Received a tip where he was.” Said my sister. What the fuck was happening? A tip? From whom? This is too coincidental. I put the pen down; it stood up on its own writing so fast the pages were like a computer screen flashing. A few minutes later the pen was done. The horror was complete.

As I stood there trembling could I even begin to look and see what it wrote? I looked at the story and it was good. What the next chapter brought though was the death of the girl. I called my sister immediately. She did not answer, Fuck! I raced over to my sister’s house to find her slain. This shit was real! It was exactly as the book had written. What was this, Pen? It had the ability to kill and write in peoples murders. I decided to destroy the pen.

This was my first mistake, it knew I was coming. It began writing.

You cannot Destroy us. We are of the evilest depths of the universe. Now feed us and we will bring your deepest desires. Cross us and seal your fate.

Feed us? What was fate sealed? I decided to defy the Pen and not write. This was my first of many mistakes. I had to beat this Evil. I laid down to sleep and my foot was throbbing. It was an excruciating pain. I took some painkillers and passed out. When I awoke, I went to stand and THUMP! I fell straight on my face. My foot was gone. Like it had been amputated years ago. What the Fuck? Was it capable of taking body parts at will? Was this the price for defying the pen?

This left only one choice feed the pen what it craved, Human Souls. I would write in a story that the boss of mine at the department store Charlie, then that Cheesedick Yoga instructor at the Gym, and that pimple faced drive through guy at Burger town. I would have no issues with writing them into a story of grimace. Charlie was a self-conceded asshole, full of himself. Yoga guy was popcorn muscles freak who thought he was Gods gift to women. Pimple guy always went out of his way to exploit every customer.

I grabbed the pen, and it took off on its own. Scribbling their fates with its demented ink. Pages flipping pen scribbling. 350 pages of pure horror. A week later I watched the news, and Pimple Guy found the underside of a minivan while crossing the street. Yoga guy met his demise while getting caught screwing a guy’s wife. The husband laced a dildo with razorblades and fucked him with it, ewww. Then Charlie was climbing a ladder at work and fell and snaped his neck. Wow this pen really had no boundaries.

I thought OK now the pen would surely release me from its curse. Was I wrong. It only wanted more. Every time I failed to bring it victims I would lose a body part. I decided to visit the Gypsy. She had to take this God Forsaken pen back! I went to the same swap meet where I first met them. I was in a wheelchair now. As I approached, I could hear laughter. She handed me the same hundred-dollar bill. “I told you it was not for sale.” She spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me it was cursed?” I asked. “The pen chooses its victims” the Gypsy scalded. “How do I get rid of the pen?” I asked. “Boy its not about how, it’s about who.” Said the gypsy. “What if I cannot find who?” I asked. “Then it will consume you one body part at a time.” Said the gypsy. “How do I know, Who?” I asked. “You won’t till it’s gone; she said, now take your pen and be gone!” Said the gypsy sternly.

Fuck this shit just got real. I found many more souls too feedthe evil inside the pen. As I ran out of victims it began to consume me. Here we are back at the beginning with the book signing. I put the pen down hoping it would travel on. Find its next Victim.

“Mr. Sandoval will you sign my book?” Said a man in a deep sinister voice.

“Sure,” as I took the pen to sign the book.

“What a nice pen, how much would you sell it for?” he asked cleverly.

This was my chance, I turned purposely leaving the pen in the open. As I turned back it was gone. Oh, thank God. I was so happy the pen was gone I went to celebrate. As I was on my way home, I saw a pub and decided to go inside for a beer. It was over finally. I asked the bartender for a beer. As I was drinking full of glee the bartender brought over a note:

You’ll be my first victim to write in. You think me finding this pen is an accident? I have been searching for it for years. You have no idea of its powers. Watch over your shoulder!

Oh, shit what had I done?