Writing Prompt

Karyss kept staring at the book. She still didn’t understand what ‘41.384318555670° N and -93.786874236092° W’ meant. She knew that they were coordinates, but to where? For now she pushed that aside and wondered how she got into someone else’s house? Karyss carefully got out of the bed she was in and made sure she didn’t make any creaks to se old wooden boards that made the floor as she made her way to the door. As soon as she opened the door and stepped outside, someone started coming up the stairs. Karyss panicked and ran back into the room and into the bed. She also managed to grab the small sketchbook and pull it under the blankets with her. The second the person stepped into the room, Karyss jumped from the bed and ran down stairs and out the open door, the sketchbook carefully tucked in her jeans pocket. She ran as far away from that house as she could. Fortunately, there was a lush forest with a small town near the barren landscape that the house was settled in. Karyss reached the town and found a small alley to stay in. She found a box to sit on and opened the book to look through it. She found drawings of animals. Animals in cages. Animals in huge trucks. Animals in death fights. Karyss couldn’t explain it, but some how those pictures made her hurt, as if she had scars all over her body like the poor animals did. It bothered her so much, she shuddered and immediately closed the book. The minute she did, a loud meowing came from under her and she got off the box quickly before gently kneeling down and lifting up the box. A small, underfed cat shook under the box. Karyss felt drawn to it and reached out to touch it. The cat, surprisingly, touched her hand with its nose and rubbed against her legs. Karyss suddenly felt herself turn into a cat. Her normal ears became cat ears and her legs and arms became paws. So this is how I’m going to pass through this town unnoticed. Karyss thought.

3 days later: Karyss was out of the town and on two legs again. The cat followed closely behind her. They silently made their trek through a small forest, hot desert, and huge lake until they finally reached a large factory building in a forest. Karyss looked down at the map she was holding and knew this was where they were meant to go. Karyss cautiously walked toward the building with the cat in tow. When they reached the door and she opened it, a very huge net came down on them and Karyss fell, becoming a cat again. After it fell some men came out from the shadows. “We finally got her again, boys!” One shouted at the others. Karyss simply watched them in silence. The cat who had followed her watched them with her. She knew these people. She remembered them. They had trapped her before and killed her family. All they wanted with her was to give her away for a lot of money, and she wasn’t going to let that happen. Even on her life. When the men had finished celebrating, they noticed her staring at them. When she knew they had, she willed herself to become something huge. It worked. Karyss tore through the net and leaped at the men in fury, claws out and tearing through their skin. They tried to dodge, but she knew their strategies and beat them quickly. By the time she had finished with them, two men were dead and one was lying on the ground, bleeding to death. Karyss had finally won. These men wouldn’t hurt any more animals anymore. They had been destroyed.

My eyes flicker at the light beaming at me, I squint as my eyes struggle. My back hurts and I see many cuts on my left arm. The sheets seem so soft and fluffy- like clouds on a summer night- I’m melting in the sheets with the sun glowing behind the bed. I rub my eyes and look around, despite the cuts, my skin is dangerously smooth and shiny. I realise I’m wearing silk -its so soft. Shorts that barely cover my back side and a top ,with no selves, that hangs at my waist. I’ve never worn such beautiful clothes. My skin has never been so soft, and where I live there is near to no sun- let alone giant windows behind my bed.

My eyes adjust to my surroundings and I find gold on my right, it glistens in the light as a golden sketchbook floats above it. Thats not my handwriting. It’s too neat to be mine. I reach out as far as I can to try and get the book, this bed feels like it’s pulling me in like quick sand the comfort is so addictive. I stretch as far as I can without getting out the bed. “Are you okay love?” His voice startles me, I must look like a complete idiot because I tumble out the bed and nearly hit my head on the book stand. He laughs at me, but he walks toward me. The sun shining on his beautiful face, every detail highlighted in the sun, his dark blue eyes- I could stare at them for days. His chocolate brown hair, so curly and cute in small braids that frame his face so perfectly. His smile- his teeth- it kills me how attractive he is and how dumb I am. I’m even more of an idiot because I have made him stand there in-front of me for so long. Arm outstretched waiting for me. “Are you okay love?” I feel bad for making him repeat it but that word sounds so beautiful coming out of his lips ‘love’ I think I’m in love. As he pulls me up I’m suddenly at his chest. His had up my back and his arm stroking mine. “How are you feeling? Your arm is looking better. Does your back still hurt?” I don’t remember anything that happened or why I got hurt- to be honest if I was lost with him I would forget everything.

My eyes drift to the golden book as I drift back to reality. What am I doing here? His hand caresses my face and my eyes drift back to him- his eyes. And I start to forget what I was looking for. “Where am I?” I manage to say. The doors slam behind him and my eyes drift again. The book is covered in co-ordinates. I recognise them from camping with my dad. Their my co-ordinates. To my house. This isn’t my house. His hand holds my face once again and he pulls me closer- I didn’t think we could get any closer. “It’s okay love, no need to worry” he says once again. His voice is like an automated message thats here to comfort me- it’s working. But I ask again.“Where am I?”

The room goes black…

(DangaRonpa inspired)

—Yawn’.. Ah.. shit my body. Shouldn’t have been in a daze like that, probably missed the whole lesson. Professors going to be-

{ He looked around, after finally getting his eyes to wake up. }

If i’m even in professor’s classroom right now. Where the hell- DOINK- AH .. ouch where did - what? Coordinates? I don’t even know how to read coordinates dude. Byebyeee.

{He tossed the paper , causing it to float to the bottom of the steep walk down and out this classroom.}

I would never follow random coordinates with my own name on it.

{Reading his name over and over at the top of the lined, school notebook paper. It was in big bold, sans italic letters. He read it again, thinking, then again, peering around, then again, for the last time, he read his name aloud.}

“Sy….Kee…..Lan…dsss… Sy… erm.. kee..- hold on, what is happening”

{His name was moving? He was now looking at/}

\ “More damn coordinates?? long heavy groan I thought i told the universe I do NOT underSTAND damn COOR DI NATS.”

      {Syk is fairly angry. What Syk *should* be thinking about is whether or not he’s can say he’s for sure ‘safe’, wherever he is at that is.}

Okay, sigh, think think think. What was the last thing that happened in my memory? Brain, tell me what happened right before i went to bed! … silence… Brain???? ….

long silence. Why did i think that’d work. Such a kid. I need to work on th- Wait what am i even doing?! I need to be worried about where the actual fuck i am right now dude.

“You’re at Hopes Peak Academy!! Ahhhhhhahahahahahaaha!!!”

“Where? What? The hell is a Hopes Peak? A damn mountain of optimist?”

“No, very clever though!!!! Youuuu get a cooooll point from meee!”

“Okay listen you-“

{Syk is looking at a stuffed animal. Yes. A talking one. He’s not tripping, wait is he?? No there’s definitely a talking stuffed bear.}

“No no! Wrong is what youuuu are my friend!”

“What in the hell are you-“

{The stuffy just kept going. As if not to have heard Syk start talking.}

“Stuffed bear? Really? That’s the way you view me? .. Awwhhhfrown”

What??..

“Just kidding ! I really don’t care about that. I care more about telling YOUU why you’re here my dear!”

“Don’t call me my dear.”

“So, my dear, -“

“DONT. Seriously. I will not let you speak until you call me Keel. Got it? Got it.”

“Ughhhh, gosh Keel! You’re no fun.”

“Good. Let me out of here, wherever the hell here is, you talking cotton stuffed fabric.”

“Wowzers, you’re mean huh! :(.” The bear jumped down and took a look at me. A quite dark and strange one, like I’m the one who’s a talking stuffed bear in the middle of nowhere. I dont know if I should be concerned about that or where I am. The coordinates, i forgot all about those! I wonder if it knows anything about them.

“state…. blah blah…. You’re not a very good looking o-“

“Hey! First of, watch it.”

“Don’t interrupt me and then say-“

As if he wasn’t saying don’t interrupt it. I blantly ignored the fact that it was still talking. My question is way more important.

“Do you know anything about these coordinates?” Shoved them directly in it’s face. Better get a good look at them. Better know something. -_-.

“Why, no- I don’t.”

“Lies. I can see it on your face.”

“What face, huh?”

“That one.”

Why did I point at it? What? Huh?

I took a second, stared at the thing, then I pointed off.

At the face off in the distance.

]{{. E N D. }}[

[ For now of course:) ]

I wake up with a start, shooting up in my chair so fast I fall backwards before I hit the ground. My head is pounding from the fall and my impromptu sleep on the uncomfortable wooden table.

I look around to see I am in a house, but it’s not mine. My house is painted all different shades of blue with white furniture. This house is painted a dull grey color with cheap old wood furniture that looked as if it would crumble to dust if I so much as touched it. The house also seemed… insidious, unlike my own comforting home.

I stand up and brush the dust off of my extravagant dress. Wait, dress? Why am I wearing a dress? And why is it so fancy? The dress has two layers. The bottom layer is strapless layer of solid black with a flowing bottom. The top layer is an off the shoulder black lace that falls over the edge of the bottom layer like a spider web hanging between two walls.

I walk over to the table I had slept on and see an open notebook with numbers in it. They look like… coordinates? But for what?

Beneath the coordinates were two words that had been underlined aggressively and bolded with black pen:

FIND AVERALIZ!

“What’s Averaliz…?” I mutter, confused.

As soon as I said the name aloud, it all came rushing back to me in a flash. The dinner, the drinks, the fight, and everything else that happened last night.The last piece of information clicked into place and my eyes widened.

I heard a faint beeping noise and immediately ran to the door. I sprinted out of the house, which was on the beach, and into the sand. I barely had time to turn around before the house exploded and burst into flames.

Feeling so groggy still trying to focus my eyes and my brain. Looking at this sketchbook determining where it is trying to lead me, and looking around seeing I am not at home. Someone had to have slipped something in my drink last night. No one knew I was going to be there except my captain? Who did this, bringing me here and leaving me with some coordinates. So getting up looking around to find the restroom, thought I would be quiet just in case they thought I would be knocked out longer. Once finding the kitchen the garage was right off of it. There was not anyone anywhere in any room, so there are some keys let’s see what luck we have with a vehicle. Opened the door turned on the light and there sat a nice blue mustang, thinking this is so odd. Went back to check if any of my stuff was with me at all or just the sketch of the coordinates. My cell was under the edge of the bed broken, it barely works. Grabbed the coordinates and the phone quickly ran back to the garage, cracked the car, open the garage door, set coordinates in the GPS, and then headed that direction. This could be a set up in some way, making a stop into the bank to withdraw some money just in case. My pocketbook and suitcase I carry everywhere are just missing but I know I had those and my car last night before I was drugged. As I am getting closer to the coordinates on the sketch pad things look more familiar. It is getting close to my birthday and only so many people know me well enough and know they would have to set me up to surprise me. Kind of nervous I really hope this was done by my family or a couple really close friends who understand I am a sniper and can not have my business out there like that. If nit is not either of them and the problem is I am a sniper and there are some folks who may have interest in taking me off the top in the industry. So that could be all bad, not having a weapon. Thus why I am thinking friends or family cause maybe they took my bags knowing I would bring them and have one or two out ready to use. I pull down this road leading to another dirt road looking very familiar but it was when I was a kid, now it is feeling more and more like family. This is very much somewhere we had childhood memories. Playing in the dirt by the pond, fishing with my cousins, and just having the most fun with our loved ones. As I pull up cars are everywhere and look my car is there too, my sisters had to have done this, they threatened me with this a while back. I really thought they were playing games, I guess not. When I park I see my sister come out jogging over to me, she says to me when I open the door with her arms out shaking her hands and head no, don’t get mad sister, this was the only way. To me and your family this is your birthday party but to everyone else we are having a big gathering of family and friends. My sister Jessica continues talking as I look in awe, so there should be something in the trunk for the party as if you knew you were coming and bringing somethings. Looking at Jessica I was still in this awe struck look, like do you see me. So I ask I hope you did not put anything in there to spill or damage, what if I was driving crazy to get here mad? Do you see what I look like Jessica? Having to go in front of all these people? Jessica looked at me all silly and was like hello I am your sister I know you. There is a over night back with clothes, including panties, bra, and socks. There is a shower bag with body wash, tooth brush, and other facial needs in getting yourself cleaned up. Here let me help you carry on your stuff in and show your aunt Linda’s bathroom, you can get ready there. I follow my sister quietly in through the side/back door, we go upstairs and in the room on the right.

Stretching out of a deep sleep, I blinked awake. The struggling light suggested early morning. Okay. My hands good I had two of them roamed my body assessing for injuries. Scars nothing fresh breasts that’s a change swollen right knee and a broken no make that a twisted right ankle. My eyelids fluttered close. Damn, this body was exhausted. I sank back onto my backpack.

I dreamt I was back in my kitchen making coffee. Flor was talking about her monstera and I was pretending to listen while I ground the beans. I always dream of coffee.

I shook this body awake drawing on its youth. Dead tired is better than dead as grandma used to say, I thought. Its feet—make that my new feet—hit the floor. I remembered the bum ankle and winced. My head spun as I settled into my new form.

I reached for the Kitchener Device. It’s cloaked as a plain leather bound book of blank pages. Brushing my slender fingers over the ivory pages, I felt the hum of the device’s energy. Calmness settled over me. Focus, Steve, focus.

Broken clay pots, a half open bag of fertilizer, rusted garden tools hanging neat as soldiers, the garden shed was clean and orderly. I spied an empty hook and found the missing trowel sharp hidden beneath the stack of paper bags under the garden bench this body used as a bed. Smart girl.

Leaping from body to body was hard enough with the Service on my heels without casting into a dumbass whose reflexes and instincts were slow enough to to get it killed fast. Quickly I packed up the foodstuff and supplies the girl had stored. I came across a funny flat pencil during my recon of the shed. A sketch book needs a sketch. As I ate an energy bar, I did an impulsive sketch of Flor on one of the pages. It was a fair almost good. Coordinates flashed across the page for the next portal, the next step closer to home. I felt the gears churn. Time to go.

‘This, this is isn’t right’ thought John to himself as he looked at the pages. He might not know exactly what it was, but the large type face letters on the cover of the sketchbook brought horror to his face. He scanned it meticulously and sure enough it read, “property of Homeland Security.” He groaned, he thought it was over. He thought he had escaped the maze of events but there it was, staring right at him, the book he fought so hard to destroy.

‘A copy?’ He wondered. ‘It has to be, the foreigners book was set aflame off the coast of London. But there it is all the same.’

So John picked the book up and was about to toss it in the already burning fire place when he realized he didn’t know where he was, and that the page next to the coordinates was no longer empty. He didn’t remember anything being there before, but as he looked it changed from the blurry outlines of a paragraph into a well detailed portrait of John’s brother, Samuel Leer, a missing person for 13 months.

Amazed he looked closer, and sure enough it changed again, but instead of becoming another pictures, it just faded into the page.

“Well that can’t be” he said to himself, in almost a mutter sort of way, “It wasn’t supposed to be a magic book… there’s no such thing…”

“Oh, but there is agent Leer” echoed inside his mind, reminding him of the forced surgery and the new micro chip the government had out inside his head.

“At least, I’m inside your head. You see, we can make you see things, bot just view what you see.. recall old memories, and implement them in the world around you.”

John shook, the voice sounded like Aura’s, the person who had double crossed him in the first place.

“You see, once you destroyed the book, we had nothing, well, not until we managed to capture you.” She toyed. “And seeing as you’ve been the only person who can read that very distinct Latin dialect, we recalled the book into your world, too see what you would think as you read it. You thought we needed the book, no we just needed the translation, we’ve had those coordinates for years, we just, didn’t quite know they were coordinates, so thank you, John. You’ve been quite a bit of help.”

—

John looked around again and noticed the light were only dimmed. In fact, everything was dialed down. The colors were washed, and the carp new but frayed. Something was wrong, or already he thought something was wrong. Things seemed just a little… off. He tried the door. Locked. He tried the dresser, only the first drawer opened, and inside, a single note with four numbers: 6780. He didn’t recognize them. He looked around, and saw a book on the shelves. It almost looked like the other other ones, but this one’s binding was just a tad bit glossier. Kind of like matted plastic polyester mix. He’s used one of these before, so he wasn’t shocked when the book had a key hole on the top. Hollow.

“Great.” He thought, ‘they have the location and now I’m stuck in an escape room. Why?’

“Because we don’t want you escaping, at least not yet.” Was the only reply he got from the chip. But after a few hours, he still had no idea.

However, he had managed to find the key, which was inside the alarm clock. The four numbers apparently had to be imputed into it, even though it want an actual time. ‘Maybe a part of a date?’ He wondered? Anyway, the book opened up, in where he found a single diamond ring, but this clue, this clue he recognized. This diamond was red in the middle, set on a simple iron band… his grandmothers ring. Not her wedding ring, but the secret one she told him if as a boy. The ring he was looking for. The ring with the only laser imprinted biometric scan drive ever, and the only way into the grand vault. The vault at South Mc’Asters Bank in New York.

He’d only seen the ring a couple of times as a kid, but it went missing when his grandmother passed away. And that’s when it hit him. They weren’t trying to play with him, or even get the translation of the coordinates, there was something else… something he couldn’t let himself think

Something was poking my neck.

I shifted my head to get rid of the abhorrent sensation. The attempt was futile.

I rolled my head to the left then to the right. The sharp object was digging into my skin now.

I opened my right eye and the room slowly came into focus. It took me a second to adjust to the natural light pouring in from the window.

I shifted my vision to the white book laying next to me—or rather under my neck. I raised my arm and removed the culprit of my discomfort.

I stared at the white book in my hands. I held it over my face, my arms stretched out all the way.

It was a sketchbook of some sort. I opened it and flipped to the first page. Nothing.

I flipped through the rest of the blank pages until I arrived at the end of the book. I furrowed my eyebrows at the numbers scrawled in blue ink.

They looked like coordinates of some sort. I lowered the sketchbook closer to my face. I couldn’t tell if one of those numbers was a five or a six.

“Weird” I muttered.

I flinched at the sound of my own voice. I was so distracted by the notebook that I realized how quiet it was in my room.

Normally my mom had the blender on full throttle downstairs while my dad’s 15 year old coffee maker sputtered it’s last breath—or so you would think.

Everything was too quiet and that was a problem. I lifte my head and looked around. All of the Nirvana posters on my wall were gone.

My desk and the half-empty water bottles on it were nowhere in sight and alarmingly there were no clothes on the floor.

Instead, there was an empty laundry basket in the corner of the room.

I sure as hell did not own a laundry basket.

I shot up and scrambled to my feet. My navy blue sheets were replaced by ivory ones and there were about seven or twenty decorative pillows at the foot of the bed.

This was not my room. This was not my house.

I held my breath and I quietly tip toed to the door. I turned the doorknob and peeked into the hallway. The hall was ivory too and it was hauntingly bare.

My heartbeat picked up. My breathing turned into shallow panting and I instantly recognized the symptoms as initial signs of a panic attack.

‘The book’.

I quietly closed the door and made my way back to the bed. This was the only evidence I had. I grabbed the sketchbook from the bed and opened it. My hands were shaking.

I skipped to the last page and memorized the digits.

23.4162° N, 25.6628° E

“What the hell does this mean?” I whispered. I wished I paid more attention in geography class.

I tucked the book under my left arm and walked to the window. I pulled the string and raised the blinds.

“Well no matter what’s going on I’m going to get outta here”

As soon as the outside came into view, a lump of bile rose in my throat.

I was in the middle of nowhere. The desert when on for miles without anything in sight. With shaking hands I unlocked the window and pushed it up.

The heat burst through and choked me. My lips cracked and my fingertips burned.

Am I in hell?

Closed the window and locked it again. There was no way I was going to survive out there. Not on adrenaline, high hopes, and a sketchbook.

That was a death sentence. I needed a plan. I sat down in front of the window and placed the sketchbook on the floor next to me. I leaned my head against the wall. I must be dreaming.

I rolled my head to the right at looked at the bed. My eyes glanced to the bottom of the bed and I saw what looked like a black bag poking out from underneath.

It looked a lot like my school book bag. My eyes widened and before I knew it I scrambled to the bed and pulled the backpack out.

I frantically searched each pocket. No phone. But there was a blue book titled ‘Sahara’. I opened it and skimmed each paragraph. My eyes landed on a familiar set of numbers.

23.4162° N, 25.6628° E

Realization set in.

Was I in…..Africa?

I took a deep inhale and blinked my eyes open, rolling over. The sun was streaming through my curtains. It was Sunday. Awesome. As I rolled over, something hard in my bed hit my arm. My slightly closed eyes snapped open and I looked beside me. It was a.. sketchbook? But it wasn't mine. I mean, sure, I know I have a lot of sketchbooks, but I'm pretty sure I didn't have one that was gilded in gold. I sat up and held it up to the light, examining it. It was gold, with a black symbol in the middle of the cover. What the hell was this doing in my bed? I opened it and flipped through the pages. The ivory pages were thick... and blank. I got to the middle of the sketchbook when I saw something in small writing. Right in the middle of the page were handwritten coordinates. I grabbed my phone and looked the coordinates up. The exact intersection where my mom had passed away a year prior...

I sit at the end of your bed, you have already left, but you gifted me your journal, with your next clue.

It reads ‘i love you, come find me’, with some coordinates, and your name signed too.

I leave your apartment, and drive to your new secret place, It’s a bench by the coast, with a note tied to it- a new chase.

The note reads: ‘past the sandy cove, your lover lies, with a (hastily prepared) picnic, and a secret suprise’

It doesnt take me long, to find you and your feast. We finish our picnic, “So whats the secret treat” I ask as you smile, and you retrieve a box.

Inside there is a neclace, Engraved with ‘E+J’, and ‘I love you’ on the back. I’m sure that this love will bring me bliss till the end of my days.