The Black Book 1
Finding a new place to live was always a challenge. Though that didn't stop me from finally landed my own place in this apartment complex. I had rented the room that lay smack-dab in the center of all the other tenants. One bedroom, one bathroom deal. It has it's tiny oven though I won't be doing any serious cooking. I was feeling at home already. There was still some cleaning to do since I had decided to move my stuff in as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
The living room was a decent size for a single. The walls were an off white color. Here and there was your occasional hanging nail, left behind by the previous tenant. There were other things left behind besides the nails. Most of which were torn or burned pages from drawing pad. Some contained drawings of strange characters or creatures. I could not tell top or bottom due to the burned or missing parts. Something about them disturbed me in such a way that I threw them out upon discovery. I being an artist myself in a sense could not appreciate the creativity. Dark creativity to be more frank. Most of the pages I came across were found in the bedroom. They seem to lead towards the closet.
I spent some time cleaning the bedroom. It was not until I had made my way to the closet that felt a strange chill run down my back. The closet was cold. Colder then the other rooms. For the summer season, it was way out of place. I had almost finished hanging my clothes in there when I saw a discolored section of the backwall. It struck me odd that the discolored part was the shape of a perfect square. I ran my hand from the regular colored wall onto the square. It was rougher than that of the off white wall. I gave it a quick knock and created a hollow sound that echoed around the closet.
I knocked harder the second time. The discolored square cracked open revealing a dark groove in the wall. I pulled the fake pieces off til a good amount of light had revealed something else in the groove. A black book. I was hesitant to pick it up. I felt another chill run down. There was no title or writing on it. There was still something menacing about it that I could not figure out. It looked to me like a plain book. Before I knew it, I was already reaching out for it.