The Monocle Man

Chapter 1 – The Phonograph

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Dave was sleeping in his bed, lying sideways with the quilt draped over his head. He was deep in a dream, standing in a room that was made up 4 bright white walls and 2 further brighter ceilings. A door frame stood in front of him and coming from the room was some form of music. He felt beckoned to the room, so he began walking forward towards the door. The room was his, yet a little altered. Instead of his walls being painted a light blue, it was covered in a vintage-looking wallpaper. A multitude of flowers dressed the walls, each flower brighter than the last. The wallpaper was elegant. The floor was wooden and polished as if it had been scarce of any footsteps for years. The bed was old mahogany, taking up much more room than his smaller single bed did. The quilt was teabag-coloured, crumpled and creasing at the ends. The pillow leaned against the headboard, the middle-crumpled inwards. To the left of his bed sat a large leather rocking chair, made from the same wood as the bed. The leather was bronze, with several dimples where small buttons embedded themselves.

Sat in the far-left corner of the room was a small three-legged desk made of oak. Sat upon it was a blue-tinted lantern, containing a small flame which helped light the room.

Along the right wall sat a large oak cabinet, the wood untainted from scratches or scrapes. Atop the cabinet rested an ancient phonograph. A clean steel mouth protruded from the base, expressing a beautiful sound. A disk was sat spinning on the platter, producing the wonderful tune which filled the room. The music engulfed Dave, almost blanketing the forthcoming sound of knocking. The sound of knocking increased, and the music stopped. Sadness took over Dave as he looked towards the now vacant record player. Instead, he was looking at a single black button.

Then he woke up.

Chapter 2 – The Knocking

Dave woke from his dream, flinging the quilt off of his head and expecting an ancient salutation. But there wasn’t, his room appeared how it had for the last 3 years he had lived in it. His single sized bed with the New York city skyline. His bedside cabinet with a digital alarm. His computer sat upon a rickety metal desk. His light blue painted walls. His cheap wood closet. It was all there, nothing out of place. A smile grew across his face as he realized he had been dreaming. He plucked at the dream in his head, attempting to remember what it was that he actually saw, but nothing came. He only remembered the music, a simple melodic piano tune.

The knocking was far from his mind as he pulled the quilt back over his body and pressed his head back into the pillow. But it happened again. It wasn't a knocking, he realized now, it was a tapping.

Tap…Tap…Tap.

He checked his alarm which read 3:56am. Another couple hours till he had to be up for college. Pebbles on glass, he thought. Then an intense feeling of worry blanketed over him. He looked almost immediately away from the alarm to the window.

He sat up, his back pushing the pillow into the same position as it was in the dream. The angle he sat in offered sight on the top of a tree and the moon. The moon offered a small beacon of light into his room.

It’s the trees, they have those silly little twig hands and are scraping at the window, it’s nothing, he thought.

This idea immediately rushed from his mind as the sound circuited the room again.

Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP.

The fourth tap was more a strike, and Dave watched as each stone tapped against the window and fell to the ground.

He began to perspire as his quilt seized up and squeezed his body with an unforgiving grip. His pillow stabbed into his back as his pyjamas clung and compressed harder still. Breathing became almost impossible, shallow and fast was all he could muster. His eyes darted around the room, but then fixed onto the window. A feeling of courage saturated him, and he managed to free himself from the grip of the quilt and lumber to the window.

Tap.

The pebble hit the glass as he reached the window, almost shattering the supernatural courage coursing through his veins. He looked outside the window, and stars plastered the dark blue canvas of the sky. He removed his eyes from the sky and placed them on the wiry tree. Only spindly lacklustre twigs were visible, the leaves having died off months ago. His eyes ushered down the tree, and upon reaching the lower middle, a figure by the tree became visible. The top of the figure was dark, darker than the shade from the tree which enveloped it. He continued down the figure, reaching the floor. As he did, the figure moved, more so walked, forward.

Chapter 3 – The Figure

A light had switched on behind Dave's eyes, allowing him to view the figure in its full glory. The figure was out of place but more in the moment, more a part of reality than Dave had ever seen before.

The figure, Dave was now sure, was a man, who was staring back up at him.

The man adorned a black top hat which was blacker than the darkness around him, but stuck out more than wine on lino.

The top hat sat upon a face of desperation. The face, tanned and plastered with wrinkles and lines, wore a desperate plead. The man's eyes drooped below bushy but thin eyebrows, and around the right eye was a monocle rimmed with gold. No chain accented the monocle, so the man forced a squint to hold it in place. His lips were blueing and slim, and a heavy moustache hid most of the upper lip from visibility. The man wore a clean and unwrinkled suit which held the same blackness as the top hat. The only speckle of white which escaped from his body was a pair of white gloves. One hand grasped a patterned wooden cane which sunk deep in the ground.

The man was gazing into Dave's eyes, and he felt a strange energy, as if the man was attempting communication.

What do you want Monocle Man? What do you need?, he thought.

Dave, in some quaint inexplicable way, didn't think the man wanted something, he knew. He also knew that he wasn't to call for his parents or the police. The man nodded as if hearing Dave's thoughts, and Dave knew what he was to do next.

Chapter 4 – The Escape

Dave backed away from the window and creeped towards the bedroom door. He grabbed the cold handle and pulled it open as slowly and silently as he could. Light from the landing flooded his room as the door creaked ajar. He couldn't completely mask the sound, but it was enough to not stir his parents awake, who were sleeping in the room opposite.

Dave tiptoed out his room, closed the door and headed towards the stairs. He knew the stairs were more sturdy and forgiving than his door, as his dad had boasted about them a lot. ‘Them stairs don’t make any sound like they used too’, was one of the comments he had made. So, he increased his pace towards the front door. The key hung on a hook next to the door, which he grabbed and inserted into the keyhole. Before exiting the house, he slipped into the shoes closest to the door, his mother's pink crocs.

The freezing air attacked him immediately, and the sweat became a faded memory. Wind scraped his skin as he walked around to where the man was standing. The man looked at him without delay, a grin growing upon his wrinkled face.

Chapter 5 – The Task

“Hello” Dave said, as he walked closer to the man he nicknamed ‘The Monocle Man’. The Monocle Man retained his grin and relaxed on his cane.

“Hello Mister…”.

“Dave, my name is Dave” he said, bringing his arms around his body and hugging himself from the cold.

The Monocle Man didn’t give his name. He pressed on. “Dave… I need you to do something for me, and it’s very important, I need you to understand that no one can know who I am, why you are doing the task, and that you ever met me, you just have to do this one little task for me”. Dave watched as the man leaned upwards off of his cane and transferred the cane to his other hand.

“So, what do you say? Will you do it?”

You haven’t even told me what to do yet Mr monocle man, how do you expect me to do it, Dave thought. "Of course, I can" he said, as if obliged.

“I’m sure you are very confused to who I am and why I want you to fulfil a task for me, but…”

Dave cut the man off. “I will do it, Mister”.

The Monocle Man's grin widened, his wrinkles disappearing in the smile for a second. His face retorted to its usual position, then turned somewhat sour.

“It’s blood I seek Dave, blood, my boy”. The Monocle Man's eyes darted around as Dave collapsed to the floor. Before he drifted off, he heard one last thing.

“Listen for the knocking Dave, remember the knocking”.

Chapter 6 – The Hunt

Dave woke up, startled and with a weird feeling in his stomach, as if it had been flipped, pressed and pushed all at once. He had a strange feeling he should be somewhere else, but upon opening his eyes he was in his bed. Then it all came back to him.

The words ‘It’s blood I seek Dave, blood, my boy’, swirled around his mind, hurtling his brain into a sudden frenzy. The feeling passed after a couple seconds, but the pain was immense and unforgettable. He wants me to remember, that’s why it hurts, he is making sure I remember. The knocking, I can’t forget the knocking, he thought.

Then, how am I going to get blood?. He knew he would get it, the thought that he wouldn't get blood didn't cross his mind.

"Davey! Davey hun! Are you up?" his mother shouted from downstairs. He checked the time on his phone, put a fresh set of clothes on and headed downstairs. His mother and father sat at the table in the kitchen. A large plate of half-eaten beans on toast sat in front of his father, who glanced up and smiled. His mother held an abnormally large mug of coffee with 'World's Best Mum' printed on the front.

"If you want something we have cereal, I didn't make you anything cause I don't know if you’re hungry", his mother said.

"I'm good Mum, not that hungry anyway", Dave said. His mind flooded with the memory of the Monocle Man and the delivery of blood he requested. Don't think I’m gonna be hungry for a while, He thought.

College had managed to wrestle his mind away from the Monocle Man. His day had been wholly uninteresting, he didn't like what he studied - English Literature - so every day was a drag. He always would ask himself why he chose that subject, and that plagued his mind upon arrival home. He had forgotten about the whole ordeal with the Monocle Man as if it didn't exist, or even want to exist.

Dave was deep into a mission in some shooter game when it all came back. The first thing returning being the phrase ‘It’s blood I seek’. His face grew shocked, his lip quivered and sweat began to glisten across his forehead.

“How did I forget?” He shouted out loud to his empty room. He checked the time at the bottom of his screen. 9:50pm. How did I leave it this late?, he thought, being mindful not to shout and cause an unnecessary argument with his parents. Then immediately after that, the solution came to him like a smack in the face, I can get some of my own blood. So that’s what he did.

Chapter 7 – The Delivery

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Dave, before falling asleep, scoured his house for something to prick himself with. Then somewhere to store it.

He found the thumbtack first, which would complete the task of acquiring the blood. After eyeing up mugs, vases and bowls, he realized these things are way too large to store a pinprick of blood. He decided on an egg cup, which he found sat next to the 'World's Best Mum' mug. Now having the thumbtack and egg cup, he completed the job and placed the egg cup next to his alarm. He then opted to putting it behind his alarm, in case someone walks into his room and sees it. He didn’t say how much, but hopefully this much will do, was his last thought before he drifted to sleep.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Dave awoke in the dream world again, this time in the ancient bed. The dream world felt off, and he realized why when he looked at the walls. The once bright wallpaper was now fading, the flowers seemed to be wilting. The leather rocking chair was more brown than bronze, and it peeled around the edges. The music began to fill his ears again, but the sound had changed. The pitch was higher but lower, sharper but softer. Something was wrong.

He floated out of bed and to the phonograph. The disk was spinning faster, then he heard the tapping sound, louder than the distorted music.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The phonograph disappeared, leaving the same black button as before, then Dave awoke.

“Yes, yes, I remembered” Dave whispered to the empty room. He checked the alarm, which read 3:56am. He is punctual, Dave thought as he exited his room, tiptoed downstairs and walked outside towards the tree again.

“Hello Mister” Dave whispered into the night.

“You returned, I wasn’t expecting you too, I didn’t know if you trusted me” The Monocle Man said. The Monocle Man wore a sudden, unmistakable face of deceit, but Dave didn't see it.

“Of course, I trust you” Dave began, without hesitation. “I didn’t disappoint” he finished, as a smile grew across his mouth.

The Monocle Man mirrored the grin as Dave showed him the egg cup.

“Exactly what I asked for, Mister Dave, that is exactly it, give it to me now!” The Monocle man said as he gestured his palm forward.

Dave handed him the egg cup, and the Monocle man grinned wildly. He started doing a little dance to quell the excitement which radiated from him.

“I’m sorry, this is the only…”, the Monocle Man began as he removed the glove from his right hand and dropped the blood onto the tip of his finger. The blood drizzled down his finger and splashed onto the ground. The Monocle Man looked bewildered, then irritated.

“Is this blood, Mister Dave? Did you lie to me? You wouldn’t lie to me would you? What did you give me Dave? This isn’t what I asked for!” The Monocle Man spluttered and spat out, slipping on almost every word. Spit collected around his mouth as his voice developed into a deep unforgiving tone. “What is this boy, some sort of joke?”.

“I…I promise it’s blood, look, I got the mark to prove it” Dave said as he showed the mark on his finger from the thumbtack.

The Monocle Man inspected his hand for a while, grabbed it and aggressively threw it down.

“Someone else’s blood, Dave, you will get it no matter the cost, Dave, no matter the cost... Remember the knocking” he said, as a grim smile fell upon his face. By the time he finished his sentence, Dave was out cold.

Chapter 8 – The Hurry

Dave jolted awake, and this time he needn’t even try to remember the words the Monocle Man said, they were perfectly drilled into his mind.

It happened to be a Saturday, and as Dave would usually wish to stay in bed, a whole new feeling of urgency took over him as he jumped out of bed, flew downstairs and whizzed into the kitchen. He felt like he wasn’t in control anymore, the words cut deeper than anything, and they plagued him, gesturing him to complete the task, any means necessary. The face of the Monocle Man had scared him almost to death, and he needed to complete the job, or something bad could happen. His thoughts were clouded and unnerving as he picked up a knife from the drawer and a mug from the cupboard. He walked back upstairs into his parents room. How can I do this without too much noise?, was his final thought, but something more sinister had finally took him over, and he left the room with the ‘World’s best mum’ mug brimming with blood. It’s easier this way, at least I won’t have to creep around tonight, something in his mind thought.

Chapter 9 – The Final Dream

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Dave was in the ancient room again, lying in the bed, which was now covered in blood, like his hands. The wallpaper ceased to exist, the wall was a faded white, with blood splodges dotted all over it. The armchair was completely torn apart, each hole oozing blood. The aroma of the blood was similar, then he realized it was his mother's perfume he smelt.

The phonograph gurgled and blurted out blood from the metal mouth, as the music played again. The music had finally tuned to something he could comprehend. It wasn’t music at all, it was screams of agonizing pain, cruelty and death. Dave knew that at any moment, the phonograph would turn into a black button, then he would wake up.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Dave woke from the dream, or trance, in the middle of the hallway from his parents room to his. He jolted suddenly, realizing something warm was drizzling down his body. The tapping happening to be the blood from the mug falling to the carpet. Then he looked at his hand, which was carrying the 'World's Best Mum'. He almost fainted, remembering nothing besides being in the ancient room for what seemed longer than usual. Then the images came to him in vivid detail, exactly what happened in his parent's bedroom.

He stood in silent contemplation for a minute, then decided what he would do. Well, screw your blood Monocle Man, I will kill you tonight, remember the knocking asshat, he thought, entering his bedroom, placing the mug on his bedside cabinet and lying-in bed. What he did in his parent's bedroom forced his dreams into disarray, and he woke up at 3:56am in a cold sweat, ready to put an end to the Monocle Man.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I’m coming” Dave said as he picked up the mug of blood in one hand and traipsed downstairs. The blood dripped onto the floor, darkening the carpet. He hastened, going much faster, much more careless then he did the past two nights. Before heading outside, he found the sharpest knife in the kitchen and held it behind his back as he approached the Monocle Man for the final time.

“I got the blood, Mr Monocle Man” Dave said. His voice seemed two pitches deeper, like puberty had come around again.

The Monocle Man looked giddy and excited, but even more frantic than the last night. “Wow you actually did this for me, I didn’t think you could, or would, but you did”. His voice was several octaves higher than before.

“Gimme Gimme!” the Monocle Man screamed into Dave’s ear.

He handed over the mug, and as the man retreated his arm backwards, Dave pulled the knife from behind his back and pointed it directly between the Monocle Man's eyes.

The Monocle Man grinned, his smile seeming to reach above his eyes. The blood from the mug began to slide down the mug.

“You know how long it took me Dave? You will know soon enough the struggle, but do you know how long it took? 12 years Dave”. The Monocle Man’s grin disappeared.

A sudden hatred plagued Dave's eyes. He watched the blood reach the Monocle Man's hand, then rushed forward with the knife.

“It’s the only way Dave, the only way, I am f-”.

Chapter 10 – The Monocle Man

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Please, please, please come down, please, The Monocle Man thought as he picked up pebbles and flung them up at the house, trying his best to hit the window which peered into somebodies room.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Each pebble struck the window, but to no avail.

Tap. Tap. TAP.

Still no answer. The Monocle Man decided to give up, and blinked, finding himself back in his room. A tune was playing on a phonograph.

Why did I answer, why was I the one to wake up? He looked down at his suit, which was missing a black button.