The Immortal's Diary

It was a rainy afternoon when Emma first found the old, dusty diary in the attic. She had just moved into the house with her family—a large, creaky, century-old house that her parents had fallen in love with. Emma wasn’t as thrilled about the move. She missed her friends, her school, and her familiar neighborhood. The only thing that intrigued her was the attic. It was full of forgotten treasures, old furniture, and boxes of things left behind by the previous owners.

While exploring, Emma discovered a small wooden chest tucked away in a dark corner. It was locked, but the lock was so old that it broke with a slight tug. Inside, she found a single item: an old leather-bound book with yellowing pages and a strange symbol etched into the cover. It was a diary.

Curious, Emma sat by the attic window and opened the book. The first page had no name, only a date—January 1, 1825. That made no sense. Emma wondered if it was a family heirloom, passed down from someone long gone. She flipped to the next page and began to read.

January 1, 1825

I have lived for over a century, and yet, I am not tired of life. Each new beginning brings with it the thrill of discovery. Today, I must start again. My old vessel is worn, and I must find another. I will wait. I always do.

Emma shivered. The handwriting was neat, almost elegant, but the words made no sense. What did the writer mean by “vessel”? She felt a strange chill run down her spine but decided to keep reading.

February 12, 1856

I have watched her grow. She is almost ready. Her name is Maria, and she is strong, kind, and full of life. Soon, she will be mine. The ritual is simple, and when the time is right, I will transfer my essence into her. Then I will live on in her body, as I have done for centuries. Her memories will become mine. Her family will never know the difference. I am careful. I am patient.

Emma slammed the book shut. She felt her heart racing. What kind of story was this? It sounded like something out of a horror movie. Yet, the entries were written in a matter-of-fact way, as if the writer truly believed they were immortal, jumping from body to body for generations. She looked around the attic, half-expecting someone to jump out from the shadows. But there was nothing, only the quiet patter of rain against the window.

Taking a deep breath, Emma opened the diary again. She couldn’t stop reading, even though she knew it was disturbing. She skipped a few pages and found another entry.

June 15, 1923

I failed this time. The vessel was not strong enough. Her mind resisted, and now she is gone. I must start again. It is harder now. The world has changed. People are more aware of the strange and unusual. But I am patient. I will find another soon.

Emma’s hands trembled as she turned the page. The next entry made her blood run cold.

August 8, 2008

I have found her. Her name is Emma. She is young, smart, and full of life. Perfect. I will wait until she is ready, just as I always do.

Emma dropped the diary as if it had burned her. How could this be possible? The entry was about her. Her name, her life—it was written long before she was even born. She backed away from the diary, her mind racing. Who had written it? Was this some kind of sick joke?

But the dates... the descriptions... they felt too real. Emma's thoughts spiraled. Was the writer of the diary still alive, still watching her? She wanted to run, to scream, but her feet felt frozen to the floor. She had to know the truth.

With shaking hands, she picked up the diary again and flipped to the most recent entry.

October 5, 2024

She has found the diary. This is how it always begins. Soon, she will understand. The ritual can only happen when the vessel is aware. When they know of me, that is when I can take them. She will fight it at first, but they always give in. It is my way. It is the only way.

Emma’s heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she could hardly hear anything else. October 5, 2024. That was today. The writer of the diary—whoever they were—was expecting her to read it. They were waiting for her. She threw the diary to the floor and backed away, her breathing coming in short, panicked gasps.

She had to tell someone. Her parents. Anyone. But who would believe her? She could barely believe it herself. The idea that someone could be immortal, jumping from body to body—it was insane.

Yet, deep down, Emma knew she wasn’t safe. Whoever—or whatever—had written that diary was real. They had been watching her, waiting for her to discover the truth. And now, it was too late to pretend nothing had happened.

Suddenly, the attic door creaked open. Emma’s heart nearly stopped. She spun around, expecting to see a shadowy figure lurking in the doorway. But it was only her mother, looking concerned.

“Emma, are you okay?” her mother asked. “You’ve been up here for a while.”

Emma hesitated, unsure of what to say. Could she tell her mother about the diary? About the entries that seemed to predict her life? She glanced down at the book on the floor. The pages lay open, revealing the strange symbol on the first page again—the same symbol that had been on the cover. It seemed to pulse with a dark energy, drawing her in.

“I… I found something,” Emma stammered, but before she could explain, her mother smiled, her eyes glinting in a way that made Emma’s stomach twist with unease.

“Oh, don’t worry, Emma,” her mother said softly, stepping into the room. “I’ve been waiting for you to find it.”

Emma froze. Her mother’s voice had changed—lower, more sinister. It wasn’t her mother anymore. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. The immortal had already taken her. It had been watching her through her own mother’s eyes.

“You’re almost ready,” the thing that wasn’t her mother whispered. “Soon, you will be mine.”

Emma took a step back, her heart pounding in her ears. She couldn’t let it happen. She wouldn’t let it take her like it had taken so many others. But how could she fight something that had lived for centuries?

With trembling hands, she grabbed the diary and ran out of the attic, slamming the door behind her. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew one thing: she had to get away. Far away.

But no matter how far she ran, she could feel the immortal’s gaze on her, watching, waiting. It had found its next vessel.

And it would not stop until it claimed her.

Disclaimer: This story has been generated by an AI. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The content is for entertainment purposes only and does not reflect any real-world situations or entities.