The letter came early in the morning, addressed to me. The letter was wrapped in a neat foil, not the usual envelope that was used nowadays. The sticker addressing it to me didn’t have any information of where it was sent from. I ripped apart the letter with my hands, still walking inside. It was a letter written on paper that was browning. It was a very thin sheet of paper that was almost crumpling up from age. I read the letter carefully.

To Hunter

From Ħűňťęř

——————————



I hope this letter finds you in good health. For there is something that has been compelling me to write this letter to you now. It has come to my attention about the unprecedented danger that urges me to write to you. 

This letter is from me, to you. You, evidently are my parallel self, from a parallel world. For you, I believe that it is the other way around. There is a grave danger that has been tormenting our world, and we need you to open the portal so we can find refuge in your world until it discovers our hiding place. If you don’t open the portal our world will be destroyed and our indispensable connection will be lost. There will be no Hunter, as there will be no me either. You will be gone as soon as I inevitabley fall victim to its evil. I cannot dispose of what it is, for that will only make it all worse. If you don’t open the portal, then you yourself will die. We are interconnected. If one of us dies, the other follows. This portal will save both of us from it. Then we can live on with our very different lives. 

Hello me from a parallel world, this is a call for help. I must get on and make this letter worthy of some decency. To open the portal you must precisely light 5 candles. Go to a woods

and blow them all out in the same order you lit the candles, then make an X out of small twigs, and the portal will open and all will be saved. Hunter, I have hope that you will understand the importance of this letter, and the future that depends on you.

Sincerely,

Ħűňťęř…

 ———————



My heart dropped. How could there be a parallel version of me living in a parallel world. I stared at the letter blankly, debating if it was really legit. 

“There’s no way,” I said through gritted teeth. 

I pulled on my coat, fitting it over my shoulders and pulling my arms through the arm holes. I grabbed 5 candles I had kept in the basement. I nervously flipped the light switch on. If I didn’t act now, who knows when it would be too late. I sprinted down the stairs. A dim light hung above, the light bulb hanging from 3 small wires that connected to it. The lightbulb swung back and forth gently. I was too lazy to fix it, I’m expecting to hear it crash to the ground any night now. My heart pounding in my chest, I rummage through the pile of stuff. Everything was out of order, like I had just tossed it in a corner and let it accumulate over time. The pile eventually gave away and spilled over onto the ground. Searching through the rubble that seemed to never end, I threw a random thing of glowsticks I was going to use for a party—then I got sick and couldn’t attend. 

I threw things into another corner, to occupied with finding candles to place them in indivuidual organized piles. I spotted a candle, put to use but still useable. I placed the candle behind me and continued to search through the debris frantically. I threw a book series called Mind Kind my high school forced me to read. It was some corny book about thinking and acting kindly. I remember the first page precisely from how horrible it was. 

I threw the other 2 books in the series away. The second one was Mind Kind: Kind Mind. Then the third one was Mind Kind: Kind Mind Kind Mind. The whole series felt like a joke that some 50 year old man wanted to do for the purpose of making a few bucks. I spotted the second candle, but this one was still in its wrapping. I ripped open the plastic covering it before stuffing it behind me with the first candle. Then, underneath a pile of painting I had drawn when I was 2, was candles 3 and 4. After that I found a plant pot that had no signs of use. I threw that with the other stuff. Then I slowly turned to look at it, broken in pieces. Apparently I didn’t think to gently set it down.



Right under 25 pieces of blank paper was the 5th and final candle. My eyes widened and I could almost hear the sound of glass—no, the light bulb fell down. I quickly gathered up the candles, stepping over the small glass shards. In my kitchen, I numbered the candles 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. I grabbed my lighter and held down the switch. A flame gently turned in the thick air. I lit the candles based on their numbers. Then, carefully running out the house, candles in hand, I got in my car. 

Houses passed me as I turned the corner into the woods. People were walking their dogs without a care in the world. Squirrels did there normal acrobatics in the trees, and I parked into the parking lot. My car stopped and I opened the door, staring into the depths of the forest. I slammed the car door and sprinted into the woods, running through the trees and sitting kneeling down in the middle of a gravel pathway. 



I set each candle down in order. A cold wind blew. I watched leaves fly into the air gracefully. The wind howled on. I moved closer to the small flames, gently blowing them out individually. Smoke lifted into the air, waving around and dissipating. I blew out the final candle, and the wind howled louder. The trees shook and I had to hold the candles down. I quickly stood up and scanned the ground, searching for small twigs.

Finding a stick, I ripped it into two small pieces. I placed them in an X pattern and watched as nothing happened. For minutes on end I sat down in complete silence. I stood back up, contemplating if I should turn around or not.

Suddenly, the wind blew quickly, sweeping up the twigs and lifting the candles in the air. Turning around, my eyes widened in hope. A big circular portal opened. In the middle was a small circle of white, and everything else was purple and blues. The candles were almost magnetized toward the portal, getting sucked into it. Leaves and twigs fell victim to the immense power of the portal. Trees shook side to side, entire branches hanging down by small threads. My hair flew up into the air, waving around. I could barely keep my eyes open in the intense wind. A person stepped out, almost identical to me. They had wavy brown hair, just like me. Their eyes were as dark as night and small circles acted like stars. They had ripped cloth as clothing, and their pants were a thin layer of silk. He had sandles that looked like that of the Romans sandles. His clothing looked almost completely different then mine, but his face and even his height were stingingly similar. 

“Hello, Hunter,” my parallel self proclaimed. 

“Hello, other Hunter,” I replied. 

My parallel self moved his hand up in the air, and for some reason that’s what happened to me. 

“See, we are intertwined. We’re close enough to where if one of us does a movement, the other follows without even actually doing it themselves,” my parallel self explained. 

The wind roared now. The portal began to dwindle out of existence, and my parallel self and I were left standing in the woods.

“I believe you received my informative letter then?” My parallel self questioned.

“How else would I have opened the portal?” I chuckled. 

“Right. Let me tell you what I had not mentioned in the initial letter,” he started. “After opening the portal, the candles and twigs were sucked into it. I didn’t think of this as I was writing the letter. It might be able to open its own portal to our world. Using those candles and twigs, it could create its own portal and cross over to our world. It’s highly unlikely, but if it does happen, humanity could go extinct…”