00. Elias Crowley

Have you ever heard about the story of the cursed book?

Once in a while, a book would appear in random bookstores or libraries. The unnecessarily luxurious cover was made of soft velvet and decorated in golden ink. 

Why did people call the book ‘cursed’ when its appearance was the farthest from it?

It was simply because each person who had read the book mentioned different titles from the other, with full conviction, as if the title they mentioned was the real one.

— and many others. Some were very ridiculous, and some were lovely to the eyes and ears.

But the bizarre thing wasn't just the infinitely changing title.

The content?

No. The story was a standard romance fantasy trope with a predictable plot line, like another copy of a typical story of the same genre that one could find in any bookstore.

Was it the velvet cover?

The style of the cover was uncommon, but couldn't be said to be unprecedented or bizarre.

In another word, no aspect of the book could be called odd — at first glance.

A comprehensive summary from the testimonies regarding ‘The Cursed Book Incident’ had been attempted, on the grounds that every bizarre event needed to be researched for them to be understood in an academic sense. The result was as follows:

First, was that no matter how boring and predictable the story was, no one could ever stop reading it, until they reached the end of the story. They described the situation as if being under a spell, enthralled by what should be a very basic story without any twist, like a straight, honest line.

Second, everyone who had read it had either fallen into delusion of living inside the book or gone crazy for an unknown reason, believing that they descended from a lineage of nobility. 

And third, there was an uncertain and inarticulate testimony — unintelligible, one might say, given by one of the readers. During the night after they had read the book, they would experience a long, vivid lucid dream, in which they watched how the plot of the story unfolded like they were watching it in reality.

The summary itself was baffling and hard to believe. And it made one wonder whether the book and testimonies were just a nonsensical story created by a delusional disorder patient.

It could be safely concluded that one should never read a random book that appeared out of thin air, especially one without a barcode.

And never, ever, complied with anyone who told you to read the book. Even if they were shoving the book in front of your nose. And even more so — if those ‘people’ happened to be deceitful and boisterous phantoms.

— an excerpt from “A Complete Guide and Analysis of Bizarre Events and Ghost Stories", by Elias Crowley.

***

"Finally finished," Elias muttered as he closed his laptop.

The arduous task to write an analysis of bizarre events, given by his ‘respected’ professor, was finally completed after 2 and a half months of non-stop writing — or typing, to be more accurate. And his head was still aching from arranging hundreds of thousands of words about things that he so disliked and found ridiculous.

He stood up from his desk and glanced at the old clock on the wall. 

It was 6 p.m.

'No wonder.'

Elias sighed as the temperature in his room seemed to have dropped a few degrees compared to this afternoon. One would argue that it was normal for the temperature to drop, considering that it was autumn — right, if only it were truly caused by the weather.

[Hey, Elias!]

A translucent, ghostly figure appeared in front of Elias, whose expression had turned into a scowl, fed up by the uninvited ‘guests’ who seemed to have treated his house like a community centre for the dead.

[You annoying guy! Why do you look so upset when you see me, huh?]

The formless figure slowly took shape, becoming a teenager in his early adolescence, probably 12 or 13 years old — his age when he died.

[Anyway, the old hag sent me here to ask whether you have read the book yet.]

"I have," Elias answered curtly. He was still irritated when recalling the persistent ghost who kept forcing him to read the rumoured cursed book that suddenly appeared in the bookstore near his house.

[Oh, good. I can be spared from her scolding, then.]

Elias's eyebrows furrowed when he heard the boy's remark.

"Are you going to pester me 24 hours per day if I haven't read the book?"

[That was what the old hag told me to do.]

Haa.

' — f*cking old hag.'

Elias swallowed the curse that barely escaped his mouth. For some reason, the vexing, dreadful shriek of the ghost, in the form of an old lady in middle-eastern clothing, seemed to echo in his ears.

Pushing away those thoughts, he grabbed his phone and headed out of his house.

[Where are you going?]

"It's almost dinner time."

It meant that he was thinking of getting some food since it was close to dinner time.

The boy wasn't offended at all by Elias's curt answer or his annoyed expression. It wasn't just a day or two that his dislike of ghosts and supernatural events began. The boy thought that if Elias talked to him kindly one day, he would be terrified and suspect that either something had gone wrong with his head, or that the world was about to be destroyed.

The two, a ghost and a man, passed through the streets, each in their own thoughts. 

[Elias, Elias.]

“What?”

[Hey, don't scowl at me like that! I'm not stealing your stuff!]

“ — don't bother me.”

[But I’m bored! How can you just walk in silence when you have a perfect conversation partner?!]

“....”

This time, Elias stayed quiet. The last thing he wanted was being called mad for having a conversation with the air.

Unexpectedly, their path was blocked by a crowd of people, who appeared to be surrounding a thin, disheveled woman, with broom-like, bristle hair covering her whole face. If Elias didn't recognise her as a human, he would have thought that he had seen a banshee.

Thick, black liquid oozed out from the woman's body, and a dark figure clung onto her back, its eyes flashing red, scanning its surroundings as if it was looking for something — or someone. 

Elias's expression grew colder. What the crowd saw was probably a staggering, strange woman, half-crazy and dirty from head to toe. But to his eyes, it was nothing more than a case of malicious ghost possession.

‘But what does it have to do with me?’

[— Elias, let's go. I have a bad feeling about that ghost.]

Elias didn't scoff nor sneer at the boy's statement. Ordinary ghosts tend to avoid the malicious ones, as the latter feed on other ghosts to become stronger. It would be strange if the boy didn't feel anything about the malicious ghost who possessed the woman.

"I know," Elias replied shortly, his tone less perfunctory than usual.

He turned around, deciding to take another route to go to his favourite restaurant, thinking about what he should have for dinner.

‘Roasted beef would be good for dinner. I should walk faster, for the sake of my pitiful stomach —’

STAB —!

[Elias!]

He shouldn't have gone out today — no, he should've listened to his professor and calculated today's bloody disaster before going out.

Elias stared blankly at the tip of a knife piercing his chest from his back. He seemed to hear people screaming and voices filled with urgency from behind him, along with a strange, shrill laughter.

"[HAHAHAHA! SERVES YOU RIGHT! THAT'S WHAT YOU DESERVE FOR ABANDONING ME!!!]"

" — f*ck."

Elias wanted to curse at this injustice.

‘Why me —?!’

He wasn't even acquainted with this ghost at all!!!

[Elias!]

The boy's crying voice almost deafened his ears.

"I — heard you — stop —"

He wanted to tell the boy to stop crying, but his consciousness began to blur like a fading mist as his blood began to dye the white shirt he was wearing.

His body seemed to have fallen onto the cold asphalt, as he could feel himself slowly losing his senses. In his fading sight and hearing, he could vaguely hear the woman's shriek, telling them to let go, and that she had finally avenged her injustice.

Elias wanted to sneer.

Injustice? Yeah, sure.

On the wrong person.

It was a short 21 years of his life. And truth to be told, he didn't have much attachment to the world — save for his grumpy, tenacious old professor.

'Ah, I forgot to tell the professor that I've finished the analysis — well, maybe he'll find out about it later through the police.'

He wondered what his professor's reaction to his death would be. 

Would he be sad? Would his death make him grieve? 

Elias hoped so. At least, there would be one living person in this world who would mourn his death. 

[Eli —!]

The boy's resounding voice began to fade away.

.

.

.

Why did the pain in his chest suddenly disappear?

He tried to move his body.

'What was this strange sensation —?'

"Anyone —?"

A hoarse and cracked voice, seemed to belong to an adolescent boy who had just experienced puberty, escaped his mouth.

Almost immediately, he opened his eyes and hastily scanned his surroundings.

It was a dazzling and opulent room, more luxurious than the one he had seen in a mansion he visited during one of his study tours.

His feet dashed to a large mirror standing at one corner of the room. 

Instead of the appearance of an ordinary brown-haired man with tousled hair and a stiff, cold face — being reflected in the mirror — what he saw was a dark-skinned boy of average height, who appeared to be in his 14 or 15. His hair was dark brown and his eyes were like the glowing ambers that he once saw in a museum, full of vitality. And on his forehead, was a — birthmark? A single red dot in a perfect, diamond shape, like it was stamped onto the forehead right after birth.

His gaze moved to the clothes he was wearing — a set of long-sleeved tunic and trousers, with some embellishments on the collar and sleeves, similar to the one he saw in a fantasy book illustration.

"Bloody — damn it —"

He spewed out more curses, while knowing that what he did was just a futile and pointless complaint.

Possession.

A case he had encountered many times, almost like a monthly occurrence.

But this time, he was the one experiencing it.

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