Moleskine's Classic Notebook

This was him. This was the villain of our story. The young woman’s gaze transfixed on the portrait. Kassandra Katz, nicknamed Kit-Kat by her Father, stood alone in the museum while nervously playing with her deceased mother’s wedding ring. In front of her hung two portraits, one of Hitler—and one of Liam MacCullagh…

Liam MacCullagh was a deranged sociopathic killer. Responsible for the mass-killing of children for organ use, the complete obliteration of New York City in 2022, and killing over 70 million people with a super virus. He was a true terrorist. Whatever despicable act someone could imagine, Liam MacCullagh had done. He ultimately started World War 3. And of course, manipulated the War to his benefit…

No one knew how Mr. MacCullagh came to control the World but everyone around it could agree on one thing: If Villains existed, which they did, Liam MacCullagh was the World’s Greatest Super Villain. However, in 2025, eighteen years ago, known criminals began to disappear & their colleagues seemed to completely forget their existence— as if their minds had been wiped. When news of the ‘missing criminals’ travelled nationwide, Liam MacCullagh’s villainous activity ceased. Leading others to believe that the World’s Greatest Super Villain was missing too…

In Kassandra’s satchel was a little black book. A black Moleskine’s Classic Notebook she had found in her basement. Upon finding the book, she realized, this was no ordinary notebook. For it was the notebook that told Kass to come to the museum in the first place.

The young woman opened the retired pages. It seemed each page was full of writing while some were pencil sketches. Most the pencil sketches were incomplete, but one had been sketched to completion—the one that she stared at, here, on the museum wall. Yet, the words written inside made little to no sense and the notebook had been written from back to front. The “first page” was a jumbled mess of words. And after unjumbling the code, it read, “The end is only the beginning. 2214 Locke, St, Fort Lee, New Jersey.” It didn’t take long for Kassandra to recognize the address. She often visited this museum to get away from her nosy Father and draw her sketches in peace. Speaking of her nosy Father…

“Kassandra?” She faced him with disapproval. Quickly hiding the book behind her back, she whined, “Seriously Dad?”

Frank Katz protested, “I swear, I didn’t follow you this time!”

“Really? Then what are you doing here?”

“Well, you know this was your mother’s favorite place to write—what’s that?”

The Father spotted the little black notebook hidden behind the Daughter’s back. Kassandra, knowing her nosy Father, reluctantly revealed the book. “I’m not sure, honestly.” She handed the notebook to Frank, who cautiously grabbed it while she spoke, “I found it in the basement.”

“What is this?” Frank questioned, utterly confused. Neither of them had ever seen this book before. Kass reached out and took the notebook back, “Not sure, but there’s a jumbled word puzzle on the last page that brought me here.”

“Here?” Frank’s eyes widened. “Next to Hitler & MacCullagh?”

‘Well, no,” Started Kassandra, “It’s the museums address. I only came here because there’s a sketch of MacCullagh’s mural, see?” The female revealed the same mural sketched onto the notebook’s pages. Frank’s face grew worrisome and Kass expected him to send her home immediately without giving this a second thought, but he surprised her…

“There’s something wrong with this one.” Mr. Katz stated, stepping closer to show his daughter. “His eyes are looking left instead of right.”

Kassandra curiously examined the eyes before holding the page in front of the original mural on the museum’s wall. Upon raising the drawling to cover the real mural, her eyes followed his—the notebook’s eyes looked directly to another painting. New York’s Annihilation of 2022 caused by Mr. MacCullagh himself. Kass lowered the book and approached the painting with her Father following behind.

“MacCullagh painted this from the only building that didn’t fall.” Kassandra spoke, staring at the haunted painting in front of her. Her eyes scanned the art with such detail, looking for something to continue the strange clues. In her mind, this was just like a fun escape room. But her Father’s eyes began to swell with tears. For the Fall of New York was where his wife had died.

Miss Katz reached for her phone to find that the address of the last standing building was the same as the museums— 2214 Locke... Kassandra handed the book to her Father and grabbed the edges of the painting. She felt the edges for something unfamiliar. “Uhm, honey, we’re not supposed to touch the art pieces—” Frank’s words ended when a click was heard, and the painting opened as if it were a door. Behind the painting was a small vault. Quickly Kassandra attempted the combination, 2214. It didn’t open, how strange? Then she remembered—the end is only the beginning. She quickly reversed the numbers, 4122. And...

“Open sesame.” Kass spoke with a large grin as the safe opened. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t a handheld mirror from the 99 cents store. The young woman curiously stared at the mirror. What was she supposed to do with this?

After a series of events, Kassandra and Frank found that the riddles became more and more dangerous. They eventually crawled into the air ducts and found hidden rooms throughout the museum. While Kassandra laughed as if this were a joke, Mr. Katz was on the edge of a nervous breakdown…

“This has to be the last room!” Kassandra shouted to her Father who followed at a close distance. Her green eyes spotted something oddly peculiar yet familiar in this dark room. While all the riddles revolved around Mr. MacCullagh, this one directly targeted her Father. A spotlight shined onto a suitcase that laid present on the table in the center of the room. When Mr. Kats eyes spotted what Kassandra’s saw—his suitcase filled with his clothes, his pilots license, his drivers license, a small handheld pistol, and another little black notebook—his entire demeanor changed. Frank reached for the newest Moleskine’s notebook. Written inside were names that had been crossed off. A hitlist. It was here that he realized: Frank Katz was being targeted, and now—so was his daughter.

“You need to leave, now.” Frank stated, grabbing onto his daughter’s shoulders, “This wasn’t what I thought it was, Kass. You need to leave!”

Kassandra’s eyebrows furrowed, so terribly confused. “What did you think it was?’

“Some game MacCullagh left behind. But I was wrong. He knows who I am.”

“…and who are you?”

“We don’t have time for this, Kass.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Only a moment of brief silence passed as a sigh escaped Frank’s lips. But finally, he spoke freely—which he swore he’d never do. “After your mother died, I went looking for MacCullagh. But I could never find him. Instead, I started hunting other villains like him. The missing criminals? That was me.”

Kassandra blinked a few times, “You’re an airline pilot.”

“Yes and No.” Frank murmured, “This notebook is mine, it’s a hit list. This is a warning, and MacCullagh doesn’t leave warnings—he knows who I am.”

“Did you kill them?” Kassandra motioned to the gun with confused watered over eyes. “Is that why there’s a gun?”

“No! I—I can wipe their minds in a way, they can start over, have a second chance—”

“Dad.”

Kassandra pointed past her Father, cutting off his words. Behind him—a paper-mâché hand upon a podium. The hand… it was the hand of Lourie Katz, Frank's deceased wife. Frank became mesmerized, as if he were in a trance, and began to walk toward the delicate thing. “Your mother’s ring.” He demanded of his daughter, who quickly pulled the wedding ring from her finger and handed it to her Father. Mr. Katz, the villain hunter, carefully placed his wife’s wedding ring where it belonged. All of a sudden, the hand began to turn toward the wall behind the podium—and the wall began to split in two…

The Katz’s eyes widened in absolute surprise. As the wall split, a ray of golden light spread across their bodies and peered into their eyes. Hidden deep within the Museums underground was a large vault, but not just any vault, a vault that held everything Liam MacCullagh had ever stolen. America’s debt could be paid with the items inside this room. And here it was for the taking?

“What game are you playing, Liam?” Mr. Katz questioned, while Kassandra spotted the third Moleskine's notebook. The Daughter opened the newest notebook to find the last page had been book marked for her convenience. Written inside was a letter addressed to her…

“Everything’s here! I don’t understand. Why would he—” Frank caught a glimpse of his young Daughter’s eyes. She stood there, notebook in hand, with tears streaming. All she could do was stare at her Father. What had started as a game, was no longer fun.

“It’s you.” Kassandra spoke softly, “You’re him.”

The eighteen-year-old cautiously handed Frank the notebook. He furrowed his eyebrows while reading the letter addressed to his daughter. In short: Liam MacCullagh fell in love with Kassandra’s mother—who was never meant to be in New York during the bombings. After killing her, he erased his own memory to never hurt his beloved daughter. This was him. The villain of our story was really…the hero??

“You killed so many people.”

“No! I didn’t! I would never!”

“Why is no one ever in the museum!”

“What?”

“No one is ever here, why not? Why is all this here!”

“He is manipulating us, Kass! That’s what he does!”

“How did mom die?”

“The Fall of New York, you know this!”

“Why were you there?”

“This is all a setup, Kass!”

“WHY WERE YOU THERE?”

“I—” The chaotic conversation came to a halt, “I can’t remember.”

Kassandra’s stomach dropped. Her mouth gaped open. Her green eyes illuminated from the silky tears. This was her Father— the World’s Greatest Supervillain. Even if he truly didn’t remember, this was still him. She turned to leave. Frank grabbed ahold of her arm, “Kass, wait.” The young woman immediately pulled away from him—but he refused to let her go.

“LET ME GO!” Her Father tightened his hold on Kassandra, his little Kit-Kat, and placed his hands on her head. Frank stared directly into his daughter’s big doe eyes to plea with her. “Kassandra, please! We have to stick together; this is what he does—”

“It’s in your handwriting, Dad.” Kassandra mentioned, “And you can’t remember.”

A SCREEEEEEECHING SOUND RANG THROUGHOUT. She blinked a few times while her eyes adjusted to the light. A terrible shooting pain shot through the young lady’s brain, causing her to grunt. She noticed the shapes of a few people walking through the museum. What was she doing here? Had she fallen asleep? In Kassandra’s lap was a little black notebook with all the pages empty except one—where she had been sketching a mural of Liam MacCullagh.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” A woman passing by asked the tired girl. She yawned a response, “Yes, I think I just fell asleep...”

Kassandra Katz checked the time on her phone. It was already dinner time. She must’ve been asleep for a while. And she had many phone calls from her Father.... But, she couldn’t quite remember why she had journeyed to the museum in the first place.

Did the hero really not know he was the villain? Or did the villain frame the hero? Or is the villain still the villain…and if so, did he wipe his daughter’s mind—yet again?