The Black Writing
by Brenden Van Hooser
I stepped back to look at my half of the dorm.
My bed was sharply fitted with spotless white
sheets that practically glistened in the light. My
dresser was dark wood with no blemishes. A few
feet away was a bookshelf that I had put the required
schoolbooks for my classes in. In the middle of the
room was a desk with a paper welcoming me and
someone named “the blue son.” I was a bit confused
about what that meant, but I thought my roommate
might know.
I let out a contented sigh and checked my
phone, and saw it was 3:07.
Right then, the door opened, and a young man
walked in. He wore a full suit complete with a tie.
His hair was short and bright red, and his slight
beard matched. His face was reserved partly because his sunglasses hid his eyes. On his right hand
was a ring with a large blue sapphire.
He had a backpack on one shoulder and was
pulling two suitcases behind him with one hand. In
the other, he gripped a brown cane.
“Hello,” he said, putting his stuff down.
“You’re my roommate?”
“Uh… oh, yes, I’m Scott Ransom.” I held out
my hand, and he shook it. He was strong, stronger
than I expected.
“Allen St. Augustine,” he smiled.
Bit of a weird name.
“What are you here for?” he asked.
“Honestly, I’ve heard Echo recruits out of
here, and ever since the government’s been cleaning
house, there’s a bunch of openings. Seems like an
exciting life dealing with enhanced individuals, plus
it gets me out of my hometown.”
“Echo, huh, that’s actually what I came for
too.”
That took me back a bit; he didn’t strike me as
the type. “You mean like for a desk job?”
“No, as an agent.”
I simply nodded, but I was still doubting. I
decided to change the topic. “There’s a paper here
welcoming me, and somebody called the “blue son,”
would that be you by any chance?” I glanced down
at his sapphire.
His eyebrow raised, and he went over to the
paper and read it.
“I wonder,” he muttered. He flipped the paper
over. He stopped and looked at me. Suddenly, something flashed, and I blacked out.
Then, in just another moment, I opened my
eyes again.
I sat up and realized I was lying on my bed. It
was dark outside, and I shook my head to confirm I
wasn’t hallucinating.
I looked over and saw that Allen had set up his
stuff: a bed, a large desk, and an office chair.
“Oh, hey,” Allen said, looking up from a book.
“What the heck happened?” I asked.
“What do you mean,” he asked, “you decided
to get some rest.”
“What?” I said, more to myself than him.
I’m not going crazy, am I?
I didn’t know how to respond to what I figured
was clear deception, so I simply checked the time
and saw it was eight.
Out of nowhere, I heard a screech.
“Stay here,” Allen said, grabbing his cane.
“Hold up,” I said. Right then, I noticed the paper was turned over, and some sort of black writing
was on it. It was styled in a flowing font.
“You thought you could run, you will never escape, we will always find you.”
What in the world?
I turned and ran out the door. I found Allen
grappling with a man. The man was tall, but what
really stuck out were his completely red eyes and
long fingernails. I stepped forward and punched the
man, causing him to fall. He hit the ground and began screeching.
Allen removed his glasses, and his eyes began
to glow blue.
“You will end like your father,” The man
screamed. His eyes returned to normal along with
his fingernails.
“I’m sorry,” Allen said, turning to me.
“What, why?”
“I thought you might be the one who sent the
letter, so I poked around in your mind.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll give you a summary. My father gave me
this sapphire, and ever since then, things calling
themselves Nelloes have been following me.”
“Well…” I began, “I guess it’s good that I know
that, considering we’re roommates.”
Allen looked over at me and laughed, “maybe.”
So that’s how our friendship started, with simple paper and black writing.
