Note: Before you read this, I could not proof read my own work to save my life. There will be errors in this story. Feel free to point out any spelling or grammar error you find.
To whom ever finds this book, I leave you this as a warning. This book is not for the living. Either by an accident of nature or the cruelty of a trickster god, this book has come to the world of the living.
My name is Jerome Smith. When you find this, I will already be dead. A willing victim of this book. I came to this cabin to find my self, what I found was something both terrifying and enlightening. I came here with only my IPod, sketchbook and a few supply's for the week. I had gotten here on Monday, I had spent most of the day meditating. As I meditated I kept hearing strange sounds, like many voices whispering. I chocked it up to my imagination. This was the first time I had been is such silence, I was used to the noises of the city.
That night as a slept I dreamt of the book. In the dream it was on the table, I stood, looking at the book. A deep voice warned: "The Laws of the dead are not for the eyes of the living. Read the book and your soul you forsake." The book opened then I cut my hand and dripped the blood onto the book.
The next day, I still heard the whispering. Most of the day I blocked the whispering out with my IPod. As I tried to sleep that night the whispering continued. As I closed my eyes, I began to make out the words. "Come to us." "Join us." "Read the book." they said. Then the deep voice again said: "The laws of the dead are not for the eyes of the living. Read the book and your soul you forsake." I sat up in bed and looked around. I knew these where not my imagination. I got out of bed and looked around the room. Under the bed, I found the book. I placed the book on the table. I slowly opened the book. I turned the first page, the second, the third, every page of the book was blank. I found it difficult to get to sleep that night and when I did I had the dream again.
The next day I meditated, I drew, I worked out. I listened to my IPod until the batteries ran dry, I used the ear buds to block out the whispering. No matter what I did, I thought about the book. At about noon I gave in, I sat down and looked at the book. I opened the book and went though each page over and over again. I must have looked though the book a dozen times when I cut my finger on a page. I lifted my hand from the page and a single drop of blood fell onto the book. I watched as the drop of blood appeared to be absorbed by the book and letters appear. The deep voice again warned me that book was not for the living. I quickly closed the book, got out of the chair and stepped back. I was terrified but my curiosity was stronger. I sat down and opened the book. On the first page in large letters it said: "The Laws of the Dead" beneath that: "Written by Charphas Ollpt Owdef Svlcra VII and edited by Kest Gnephin. Copyright of Tekorich Yamiachi Necromancic Inc" On the next page a warning: "If you are reading this with the eyes of a mortal: close the book and destroy it with fire. The laws of the dead are not meant for the eye of mortals. If the worlds of the living and the world of the dead overlap an imbalance is created and must be corrected. If a mortal reads the laws of the dead he is doomed to parish and his soul consumed by sorrow." Ignoring the warning I continued reading the book, all 666 pages. The secrets, the rights, the rituals and the knowledge of the dead was laid out before me and I consumed it all.
I read the whole book and found no sorrow, only enlightenment. Then I felt it behind me. I stood up and looked. A robed, hooded figure stood behind me. It said in that deep voice that warned me not to read the book: "In reading the Laws of the Dead you make of your self an imbalance that must be corrected. Here you have made the imbalance and here the imbalance will remain until its end. No hope, no escape, only death." The figure then vanished.
I stood there for a moment as his words sank in. Panicking, I ran to the door, I tried to turn the knob but it wouldn't turn. I tried to force the door open but it wouldn't open. I ran to the windows and tried to open them but they where sealed. I tried to break the glass but it wouldn't break. For hours I tried to break out of the cabin but it was sealed by an invisible force. I turned on the faucet but no water came out. I tried the phone but it was dead. The cabin was sealed off from the world and I was sealed in it.
If you find this, do not read the book. Destroy it, burn it! Send it back to the underworld where it belongs. Do not join us.
Good premise – needs a little editing and BIG TIME spellchecking (but then, you know that) – otherwise, good story.
I once put together a story I called, “All the Time in the World,” about a guy who had found a way to live forever. During the eons of his lifetime, he visited many worlds, had adventures, as well as many relationships with beings from other species, watched the Universe expand, slow down, and begin to contract.
Ultimately, he sat in his space ship, just outside the event horizon of the enormous black hole that the shrunken universe had become, thrilled that he would be in the unique position of watching the Big Bang happen all over again.
For thousands of years he waited, until he realized one simple thing he had not considered – in order to explode, the universal Black Hole needed to first reach critical mass, which would never happen – one small bit of matter prevented the chain-reaction from occurring – him.
He would live forever, his technology assured him of that, but in a featureless void, with no contact ever again with any living creature – further, no life would ever again exist in this universe, a universe that would never be.
He locked in the coordinates and his ship lurched forward, toward his final adventure.
I never developed it, but it’s nice to live in one’s mind.
pax vobiscum,
archaeopteryx
in-His-own-image.com
I can’t proof read my self. Which pisses me off sometimes.
That would be a very interesting story.
One thing about the concept of immortality that interests me is the psychological effects of immortality. You live for 2000 years and have 2000 years worth of memories. What would that do to a person? I should write a story about that at some point.
LW, I like your work, I truly do, but when I write something – even on someone else’s website, I go over it and over it, to make sure it’s perfect, before I submit it.
I post on another site, that allows me to edit what I’ve written, and I’ll bet I went over my last post there, editing, half a dozen times, before I was satisfied enough to let it stand as is.
I like your work, but with all due respect, your spelling is atrocious – that’s really none of my business, but I know from experience, that your writing will be judged by your spelling – sorry to say, but it’s a fact.
I have Atheist and Religious websites bookmarked all over the globe, but when I run across a post with poor spelling, I immediately dismiss anything the poster has to say. You have good things to say – don’t give anyone an excuse to dismiss what you have to offer.
Clearly, I don’t feel that way, or I wouldn’t bother with this post – but I assure you, I’m in the minority. I subscribe to the philosophy set forth in the following poem:
“There once was a man, with a tongue of wood,
Who essayed to sing,
And in truth, it was lamentable,
But there was one, who knew what the man WISHED to sing,
And with that, the singer was content.”
Again, with all due respect, your substance is good, but you need to work on your presentation –
pax vobiscum,
archaeopteryx
in-His-own-image.com
I know.
>I came to this cabin to find my self
Myself is one word, no space between the two.
>few supply’s for the week.
Supplies.
>Laws of the dead
D in dead should be capitalized.
> The book opened then I cut my hand and dripped the blood onto the book.
Was it an accident? “then I” makes it sound intentional… Is the protag in the habit of bleeding on every book he comes across?
> “The Laws of the dead are not for the eyes of the living. Read the book and your soul you forsake.”
Laws of the Dead.
>The laws of the dead are not meant for the eye of mortals.
Laws of the Dead. This happens a few times, just cntrl + f all of them and cap them appropriately.
The fifth paragraph in the story is rather long. Break it up some into a few smaller ones.
>For hours I tried to break out of the cabin but it was sealed by an invisible force.
Comma before the but. This paragraph has a few instances that also need a comma before the but.
I believe The Underworld is written like that. I’m not quite sure about the worlds of the living and the world of the dead though. It very well could be capitalized like that as well.
I’m assuming the book is older than dirt and there wasn’t such a thing as copyright laws back then. So there’d be no copyrighted company… Also, I don’t think The Book of The Underworld would need any copyright protection. If a mortal reads it, then the mortal dies. I doubt another immortal would need the book at all, let alone dare to plagiarize it… So, this would led me to question of who’s the book actually for.
*From a reply you made earlier: “One thing about the concept of immortality that interests me is the psychological effects of immortality. You live for 2000 years and have 2000 years worth of memories. What would that do to a person? I should write a story about that at some point.”
Perhaps, if you believe in reincarnation that is, that’s why people do not remember their past lives, if they have any that is.
I had an idea somewhat similar to this, but involving a necromancer directly. It’s an intriguing subject really.