You Weren't Supposed to Read This

Jenna found the book wedged between two cracked hardcovers in the dusty corner of the shop. No title on the spine, no author on the cover—just a plain black book. Curious, she flipped to the first page.

This is the curious story of Jenna Clarke, who should have left this book where she found it.

She laughed. Jenna wasn’t an uncommon name; this wasn’t even the first time she shared it with a character.

Curled under a blanket with tea in hand the next afternoon, she started reading.

Jenna enjoyed her role as a marketing executive, but the emergence of AI had made many tasks tedious and uninspired.

Jenna’s head snapped up as she instinctively glanced at her desk, where she worked from home as a marketing executive growing bored of being tasked with AI creation.

Something lurched in her gut as she laughed nervously. Lots of people work in marketing. It’s a funny coincidence. It’s nice to relate to a protagonist; it can make the book better. She thought as she slowly reopened the worn, faded pages.

She sipped on her favourite herbal tea as the TV droned in the background. It seemed counterintuitive, but it helped her focus.

She got up and paced, making two laps around the office before she heard a sharp knock on the door. Her stomach dropped, and she turned the page.

Jenna didn’t answer the knock. That’s what saved her life.

The knock came again. Harder this time. She shut the book, pressing it against her chest like a shield. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours. Finally, the footsteps outside receded.

Jenna exhaled, letting out a shaky sigh. “Okay. That was... bizarre.”

She told herself it was somehow a prank. A crazy coincidence. But her hands trembled as she reopened the book. What she found on the next page sent a prickle of icy heat down her spine.

Jenna reassures herself that it’s just a coincidence. She keeps reading.

She slammed the book shut and tossed it across the room. She rubbed her shaking, clammy hands together. No. No, this was a trick. Someone was messing with her. But how?

Desperate to prove this all wrong, she crouched and grabbed the book, flipping to the end. The last pages were blank.

The knocking returned, but it wasn’t her front door this time. The visitor was outside her office.

Breathing hard, Jenna flipped back to where she had left off. She gasped as she tried to ignore the sudden sting in her middle finger as her fumbling forced a paper cut.

Back in the first chapter, she read:

When the third knock came, closer this time, Jenna knew she would not escape.

Jenna spun her head around to the window—utter darkness. She fell back to sit on the floor and looked at her watch: 2:15 pm. The knob on the door turned.

Mouth open, limbs frozen, she watched the book turn one more page.

You weren’t supposed to read this.