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Next Up

Book One: After Lilith's mysterious disappearance, Ivy must follow her mother's last instructions, leading her to a bizarre land with new and foreign people. Unbeknownst to her, the people of that land are aware of her eventual arrival. However, they are also wary as they've received a prophecy that Ivy could be the savior of their colony or the one who destroys it. Book Two: Still, Zoe is left feeling distracted and distant several months later. Hope is not lost as she receives surprising news that she may(if she plays her cards right) be able to see Ivy again. Book Three: ---------------------------- Next Up is that one dream we all had when we were kids. When we would leave home in search of adventure and all sorts of creatures in our imaginations ran wild in this world. ----------------------------- I will update this story every Monday and now Saturday with a new chapter.

Webby499 · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
124 Chs

Track 47 John Doe

Marcello had no way of knowing this, but it was this day. Well, not this day exactly, but this day, this anniversary would be the first day that Marcello could remember clearly. 

He'd ran barefoot for miles. On days like this, the sun would beat down relentlessly. If one didn't have shoes, they would be forced to run along the stone paths, as a walking pace would be too slow, burning the soles of their feet. Marcello had dashed from one of the beaches, through the winding forest path which led into his village. 

Skipping along the hot stone, Marcello, breathless, a boy not even the age of seven, blue energy freely flowing from every pore. 

He reached the stairs of his home. He stopped at the first stone step of the cobblestone staircase, which wrapped around the cylindrical cottage, and eventually reached a tall, teal, oval-shaped wooden door. Even from all the way at the base, the smell of cooking food wafted. Even though most homes started cooking dinner at this time, his sister always used a particular spice that gave the seafood a sweet, honey-like smell. Based on the scent, he guessed, 'A Mangofin, Starfruit squid, and a…could it be? Chocolate Cococrab!' His mouth watered just at the thought. The Chocolate Cococrab's shell resembled a large coconut, allowing it to turn into a ball and roll around, and even float atop water. It was so rare to the island that all forms of hunting for the creature were prohibited. If the Chocolate Cococrab was found dead from natural causes, only then were they permitted to eat. 

He stood in the shade of the cottage. Truthfully, he wasn't supposed to be back so quickly. He knew he still had chores to do, but he never saw the point. The wind off the ocean was fresh and warm, the salty smell of brine mixed with the sweet honey seafood. With that wind came the voice of his sister, flowing from a window above him. He looked past the beige wall of the cottage, moss and vines curling down the stone. She had said his name, "I can sense you out there! Spying on me isn't gonna work! Get up here!" 

Okay. And Marcello ran, ran to his older sister. His small hands reached for the faded metal doorknob. He twisted and pulled, but it didn't budge, confused, he tried again and again. Why can't I open this? Not knowing what else to do, he started yelling his sister's name. 

Sister stuck her head out, she had dark tanned olive skin behind her luscious red lips and thick plucked eye-brows. Her brown eyes lit up when she smiled. For Father's smell was that of the salty sea, but Sister's smell was always so sweet that it made Marcello dizzy. Warm and sweet, like some sort of freshly-baked breakfast muffin. "Use. Your. Key." Sister said, giggling uncontrollably at her brother's forgetfulness. Oh…yea, that's right

After inserting and turning the key, the only door to the cottage swung open, and a blast of cold air hit Marcello in the face.

The door closed behind Marcello as he stepped inside. 

It was as if he stepped onto a spaceship. 

The top floor of Stygian Tower was a glow of neon lights and buttons. After a few more steps, he saw a figure illuminated by a dark, shifting light. The person stared out the wall-to-ceiling windows of the room, which were actually a fishtank. Hundreds of small creatures swam back and forth across the sky. 

The explosion below which ravaged the entrance had been so intense, its embers and heat floated past the Tower. 

The floor of the semi-circle shaped room was separated into two parts. An elevated cold metal floor around the back part of the room, stopping when it got to the windows. 

A staircase from the metal platform led down briefly to the second part of the room, and onto the soft fluffy purple carpet. 

Before the fishtank windows were several sets of plush chairs and tables. The man sat in the middle, the red neon lights that lined the aquarium splashed across him. 

John Doe turned. He locked eyes with the boy behind him. The boy with intelligent if self-loathing eyes. The messy hair that threatened to obscure his vision. His perfectly clean black training suit with bright orange hems and a white collar…Marcello stepped carefully down the staircase, taking it one step at a time, keeping eye contact with John Doe, but he turned back toward the windows once he stepped onto the carpet. Besides the gurgle of the aquarium, the shuffle of his feet moving across the carpet, and the occasional splash of a fish, the room was silent. 

In the reflection of the aquarium, John Doe watched as Marcello stood directly behind his chair, blue energy flowing coldly around him. 

Both of them looked as a phone sitting on the small table next to them buzzed as it received a text from an unknown number. 'Remember the apartment. The people with the Dizney girl. They're here. I got the female wit white hair. See you soon.' Seconds later, a heart emoji was sent. 

Marcello walked around the chair, blocking John Doe's view of the skyline. He ran a hand through his short, blood red hair and sighed, he legs were outstretched as he was slumped on the chair. 

"I could've just killed you right then," Marcello said. 

"You really think so?' John Doe asked, almost sincerely. 

"It would've been easy. A punch right through the back of your skull…Maybe fling you through this window-thing here," he pointed behind him. There was a long pause before Marcello asked, "Do you know who I am?"

John Doe's eyes focused on Marcello's, "Not Exactly, but I can probably make a guess as to why you've tracked me down…"

"So where are they?" Marcello's energy crackled, "Are they even still alive?"

John Doe thought for a moment, "Well, that's hard to answer. They aren't dead, but not alive in the sense that…you are right now." John Doe stressed the word you as if implying he wasn't like Marcello. A whole different level. 

"Where are they?" The question hung in the air. 

John Doe lifted his hand, pulling aside his black shirt. The whole time, he had locked his eyes with Marcello's once more. Marcello felt locked in place, not able to take his eyes off the man or move. It was as if he was watching something he knew he shouldn't, his body and brain, every instinct screaming at him that something was wrong. 

The cavity of John Doe's chest opened. 

Marcello stared at the void in John Doe; it was like a mythological whispering water well, luring kids to jump down it. The room felt so cold, and his breath began to steam in front of his face. He noticed that no such phenomenon happened to John Doe. Marcello realized then that John Doe wasn't breathing. He never was. 

John Doe pointed a long finger toward the dark hole in his chest. 

"Right here." 

Marcello stared at him, trying to wrap his head around what was just said. A deep feeling of dread passed him as his mind raced, putting all the possibilities together. "You will spend the rest of your life in my prison. I will put you in a cell that has a stainless steel slab attached to the wall—that's your bed. You will get a stainless steel sink and a stainless steel toilet. That's your furniture. You will spend every second of every hour and every day, and every week and every year of your life. However long you'll last as…" he looked him up and down, a look of disgust. "That. You will know what it is like to be truly alone. One day, someone will slide the rock from outside your cell and see you've passed on. And on that day, you will have served your sentence."

"Look," he got up from his chair. His eyelids began to feel heavy once more, his eyelashes growing rapidly. Marcello stiffened, though it didn't feel as if he were about to be attacked. "I've got something that you may want to hear." He placed his hand on Marcello's shoulder, leaning on it as he talked into his ear. "I know what you are going to do before you do it. I won't fight back; you can kill me right now, but you won't ever see them again. Then you will be truly alone."