The Obitus

It was a gray and rainy morning the day Artemis received the package in her mailbox. She heard the mailman arrive at 8 am, which seemed far too early for anyone to drop off anything. When she peered outside there was no vehicle or any indication someone had been there at all, but the little red flag was up despite the fact she hadn't put anything in it to be mailed in weeks.

How strange, she thought as her feet lead her outside.

Curious about what could need to be dropped off at such an early hour in such a strange manner, she made her way to her little blue mailbox. She looked to the other houses on her quiet street. How odd that no one else would have mail. She realized it was Sunday. There should be no post today. Artemis furrowed her brow and opened the lid to find a manilla colored envelope with no address, name, or package label of any kind. How very peculiar this would end up at her small cottage house on a cloudy and cold morning such as this.

She cautiously opened the envelope and found a small, leather, black book. It was worn and wrinkled and breaking at the spine but when she opened it, there was nothing written inside. In fact, it looked practically new. Perhaps it was her mother that dropped off this strange notebook, knowing that her daughter was needing a new journal to write in. It did seem like her style.

Artemis hurried back inside, as it was getting very chilly outside, to start a pot of coffee. She gently tossed the book on her kitchen table. She opened the refrigerator door to grab creamer and when she turned around the book was open to the first page which now miraculously contained a handwritten letter. This is what it read:

To whom this letter finds,

This book contains secrets to your deepest desires. Write what you seek, and you shall find exactly what you need. Instructions will be set before your very eyes. Follow them precisely to gain your prize. But, beware a price comes for things such as this. Once your quest is complete you must pass me off to someone new. Don’t believe me? Watch and see. Ask me twice and that is nice. Ask me thrice is a roll of the dice.

Good luck to thee, my dearest friends. I wish you all, happy ends.

-Obitus

Artemis studied the cryptic letter for some time. Could this be some kind of joke? She wondered what one of her desires was. At the moment, she wanted to have the inspiration to finish writing her book. She took a big swig of her fresh coffee, and for giggles grabbed a pen. She flipped to the next page of the journal and wrote these three words.

Write my book

As if by magic, words started to appear underneath her own.

Open your laptop. Words will surely come to ye.

“Ah, yes. A mystifying new idea. Why hadn’t I thought of that?” Artemis exclaimed aloud. This was silly. She felt so dumb to have thought this might work. To prove just how preposterous this idea was, she grabbed her laptop and opened the document that held her story. She scrolled to the last page. Suddenly, she could see the words forming in her head and she wrote and wrote for hours upon hours until the story was finished.

By the time she had looked up from her computer, it was dark outside. Her coffee was cold and the time on her laptop read 10:00PM. She was astounded. Not once in that entire 14 hours did she even get up to eat or use the restroom. Time didn’t even seem to pass. She glanced at the little black book. The words on the page had been replaced with just one. Obitus.

It really worked. She finalized her work and sent it to her publisher. It suddenly hit her how long she had just stared at a screen and felt exhausted. To bed, she went. Tomorrow she would try something new.

She awoke the next morning to another gloomy sky and a notification on her phone. It was an email from her publisher. Everything in her story looked great and would be sent to print immediately. Thank goodness!

She grabbed the little black book off her nightstand. She didn’t recall putting it there when she went to bed, but she must have, seeing as it was right there. She grabbed her pen and turned to another page in the little black book. Another note was inside in the same handwritten letter format.

Once is good. Twice is fun. Three’s too much. What’s done is done.

She didn’t think too much of it and quickly scribbled in the space below:

Make my novel successful

This was becoming addictive. Again, words began to form under her own.

One weeks’ time is all I need. Settle in, you shall succeed.

Artemis beamed at the words. One week seemed so far away. She found herself in her kitchen looking outside. The world was still gray and cloudy. There was no way she could stay in this house for one week waiting for everything to work itself out. She turned on her coffee pot and turned to her kitchen table. There was the little black book again. Sitting open in front of her. This time she was certain she hadn’t taken it with her from her bedroom. The word “Obitus” replacing the words that were just there a moment ago.

She grabbed it and turned to another page. Pen poised. A letter began to form.

Twice is needy. Thrice is greedy. Do you wish to press your luck sweety?

She thought back to the first letter she read when the book came to her. It was a roll of the dice but all she had to do was give the book to someone else when she was done with it, right? All she wanted was a small vacation from this overcast hovel.

Take me someplace sunny, she wrote. And just like they had the times before, a note was forming under hers. This time, the lettering seemed to ooze.

On your front porch you shall find a bag with something inside.

She threw the book down on the table and bolted to the front door to open it. Sure enough, there sat a red duffle bag. She opened it after bringing it inside and saw bricks of green money, a plane ticket to the Bahamas, and a note on a scrap piece of paper that said: $20,000 should do the trick. Artemis gulped. Her flight was set to leave tomorrow.

She turned around and saw the little black book on the floor opened to a page containing one word written in red and oozing down the page like sludge.

Obitus

Artemis felt stiff. She quickly picked up the little black book and slammed it closed. The feel of the cover suddenly felt rigid and unwelcoming. She tossed it across the room where it landed in front of the kitchen sink. And that’s where it would stay. Quickly, she shuffled into her room to start packing and make it to bed early so she could leave for her flight.

It was one in the morning when there was a scraping at her fingertips that would jolt her awake. It was the little black book. She opened it and saw the last letter she would ever see.

Ask too much and you will find the price to pay is hefty. I warned you time and time again. Don’t think my threats were empty. Now you’ll see what happens to those who disobey me. Did you know that Obitus means that destruction will become you? I’ll make it swift; the darkness will take over. I’m sorry dear but you cannot run for cover.

Artemis felt a tightening in her chest and pain shoot down her whole body. Everything went numb and the last thing she saw was the midnight sky before everything went blank.

A week later, police were called to her house as no one had been able to reach her regarding the success of her new book. It hit the New York Times Bestseller page just two days after being released to the public.

The policeman that came to her house knocked several times before finding that the front door was unlocked. He let himself in to look around the barren place. Everything was neat and tidy like it had barely been lived in at all. He peered into the woman’s room where the bed was perfectly made. No one was in the house at all.

All he saw was a red duffle bag with $20,000 cash and a plane ticket on the floor and the little black, leather book lying neatly on the bed. He picked it up and looked inside. A handwritten note was scribed on the first page, but it was otherwise blank.

To whom this letter finds.