To be Mortal — Chapter 3. The Void
A Second Draft Writing Challenge.
Stumbling after Jozef, we ended up in a little bar hidden in a smaller alley side. Don’t ask me what the name was, because I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. At first I was a little hesitant entering another dark alley with a complete stranger, but I was surprised to find another pub so hidden away. And my curiosity took the better of me. It was practically empty inside the bar, besides the bartender who took little notice of us as we entered. Still pretty shaken by the earlier event, Jozef pointed out a table at the end of the room and I obediently sat down. As promised, Jozef brought two beers and two shots of whiskeys. He sat down across from me at the table and did his routinely drinking method of dropping the whiskey glass into the beer. Still a little hazy on the details of what happened, I mimicked his method and dropped y whiskey is the beer too. Because I did not drink the beer first, the whole thing spilled over on the table, making a mess. “Ah bugger.”
Jozef could not help but giggle a bit at my clumsiness and asked from the barkeep to throw a towel. He did and so Jozef helped me clean the table.
“It’s alright son. I can very much imagine this was not the night you thought it would be.” Jozef laughed and then turned serious. -”And I can imagine you have many questions.”
“So many, I don’t know where to start.” I responded and took a big swig of my beer. The whiskey gave the beer an extra punch to the back of my throat and I began to cough a little.
“I have all night now. Start with comes to mind. I will do my best to answer you.” Jozef said and leaned back into his chair.
My eyes fell on the gunny bag now resting on Jozef his lap. And without even hearing my question, he already knew.
“Ah. Yes. This. You want to know what kind of entity this is.” Jozef said.- “Well, I will be quite honest with you. Of all the answer I could give, I have no real answer for that thing. I do not exactly know what these entities are. For now, I have been naming them the Void.”
“The Void? As in emptiness. Or nothingness?”
“Exactly. Thought it a appropriate title.”
“What was it trying to do?”
“Well, in short, what my research has gathered so far is that these entities feed on living matter, leaving no trace behind, as if whatever has been absorbed never existed in the first place.”
“How can something or someone never exist in the first place?”
“The people this entity took — well — I don’t remember them. As if we have never met. Yet I have documented prove, in my journals and in pictures, that I have indeed known them. Entries where I call them dear friends. Yet. These creatures have taken away their known existence.”
“How is that even possible?”
“I do not know.”
“Do you know where do they come from?”
“Again. I do not know. Normally, the abnormal or supernatural are ancient manifestations. But this? This is something new. I have not come across something like this in my travelers or my vast knowledge. Nor have any of my ‘colleagues’ in arms.”
My ear perked up and the more I listened to him speak so casually about the supernatural, the more I started feeling excited and the shock slowly dimmed down as my curiosity again took the better of me.
“So you mean to say you have come across creatures like this before? Supernatural creature?”
Not understanding the question Jozef began to rummage through his coat and took out different scraps of papers with strange scribbles and answered “Not quite like these Void entities. I first thought these creatures a type of mutated Shades or Nightwalker. But this Void is without shape or form and literally leaves no trace of their victims. Nor do their behavior simulate those of Shades or Nightwalkers.”
It was clear to me that Jozef had taken notes on his findings so far, but my skin crawled for a second as I examined his chaotic system. Jozef threw a few scraps on the table and my eye caught a piece of paper with a note ‘Shades’, with scribbled next to it a quick sketch. Although a quick sketch, his penmanship and artistic flare was on point.
“Wait? So you are saying you have seen a Shade? Have you seen Nightwalkers too then?”
“In 1976. Bugger was a quick one. Why? Have you?” Jozef asked, lifting his brow curiously.
“No. Not personally. I only know that Shades are dark spirits risen up from the Underworld , right? Or so I was told. But — aren’t Shades mostly like harmless? More the haunting kind of types right? There’s no way that this-” and I gestured to the gunny bag.”- was a Shade?”
“They are, mostly, harmless yes. Unless one is created with malicious intent by outer forces.”
“Created? Created by what? Would a malicious Shade not only be created with a horrific or traumatic event? Maybe it’s a Mononoke?”
My rummaging about his notes and questioning brought a curious smile to Jozef his jolly wrinkled face and he leaned in close.
“You know more then I was led to believe. Before you were shaking in you boots, but look at you now. Calm and enthusiastic like a child discovering the existence of fairies. Tell me, where does this sudden interest in ‘the hidden’ come from?” Jozef asked as he looked me up and down.
“I grew up with stories about the, uhm — Hidden you say? My mother told me folklore stories, myths and taught me all I know about the supernatural. I thought them all just stories of course. But now-.”
“Your mother? And where did your mother inquire her information from.” And Jozef took another sip of his beer.
“I don’t know. She died when I was young. But my father gave me some of her books on myths and legends from all over the world. So I gathered that’s where she got her knowledge from.” Even now as I write this, I always recollect the memories of my mother lying with me as she told me stories and the nostalgia must have been visible on my face that day. Cause Jozef looked at me intently for a straight minute, reading my expression and slowly lowered down his curious brow towards me to have another sip of his beer.
“I am sorry for your loss. She seems like a interesting woman to tell her son — Mononoke ghost stories.” He said.
“Thank you. It’s weird, I know, to think her stories are all I have left of her. Seems like she was right in the end. There really are monsters in the world.” And I gazed into my beer to watch the foam fade (Why do the Dutch foam up their beer so much?).
“Does that revelation frighten you?” Jozef asked.
“Of course. I would be a idiot not to be scared out of my goddamn mind.” I said, followed with a nervous laughter.
“Yet here you are. Asking the wrong questions.” Jozef laughed.
“Excuse me?”
“Let me see. How to explain. Well, Think about it. You are having a drink with a man that barely saved your life from a mysteries supernatural entity in a dark alley, who used magic right in front of you to capture this mysterious entity, with your assistance I might add. And all you are asking me is what this creature is and if there are more like these out there. Not out of fear for your life. Oh no, I can spot the difference. No, you speak out of curiosity.” And Jozef placed the gunny bag gently on the table. It did not move, nor did it seem to contain anything of the sorts.
“Wouldn’t anyone be curious? What other question should I be asking?” I asked him, but my eyes were fixed on the bag.
“Whether it was after you. If you are safe now. Whether you should leave the country. Or if there are more like these dangerous creatures out there. Although -” Jozef finished his beer in one gulp.- “You did ask what these creatures are. But instead of wanting the information to use for self preservation, you are just incredibly curious. And asking all the right questions. “ He smirked.
“I thought I was asking all the wrong questions.”
“For the regular Johnson, yes. You were asking the wrong questions. But for researching, in your case, as a writer, you are asking all the right questions. Inserting your knowledge to help connect the dots in order to seek for an answer in your mind, although your knowledge might by a little slim and cute. It’s quite impressive I must say.”
I did not know how to respond to his statement. All I could think of that he was right. I did not react like others would have. And my urge to take out my notebook and write the whole experience down, now that it was still fresh in my mind, was palpable. But I resisted, out of a strange sense of showing respect or understanding to this man in front of me. Instead I took the scraps of paper and silently read through them. To ensure I would not lose the opportunity to discover even more as I already have.
“What happens now?” I finally asked.
“You go on with you life.” Jozef said.
“How could I possibly do that? After discovering all of this is real?”
“Trust me. It would be better if you leave all of this well enough alone.”
“What about you? What will you do now?”
“Bring this creature to a place where I can examine it safely.”
“Can I come with you?”
At this request Jozef took a moment to take me question in. He took all the scraps of paper and stuffed them back into every nook and cranny he could find in his coat.
“You wouldn’t want this kind of life son.” Jozef said, grabbed the gunny bag from the table and made his way to the bar to pay his tap.
“What other life do I have? I’m a nobody of a writer with no prospects.” I said as I followed him. Jozef tipped his hat to the bartender and left the bar. I followed him.
“I could help you!” I called out to him from the alley.
“Ha. And how would you be able to help?”Jozef chuckled. I caught up to him and placed my hand in his coat. Before Jozef could even stop me I had a few scraps in my hand.
“I can catalog your research. Make it manageable. Even publishable for the world to see. When you die, no one will be able to make heads or tails from those scraps of paper you have lying about in your jacket. I bet even you have trouble finding the right piece of information you need.” I negotiated my part of this weird job application. And with every word I said, Jozef brow climbed up higher. I later came to discover, he did tended to do this when someone was making an annoyingly good point.
“It’s a dangerous lifestyle son. Family and friends you have made so far will be a distant thing of the past. Whatever life you thought you would have will be over. Are you certain you are ready to leave that life behind?”
I took a moment to truly think about it. He was right that I shouldn’t half-ass this decision. I thought of the people I met back in London and considered their influence in my life. They weren’t. I thought of my father and the life I had already left behind. Then I thought of where my life was now. “Professor Melville. I couldn’t be more ready.”
For a while I stood there waiting like an ass for a reply.
Finally Jozef took a deep breath in and let out a long sigh, followed with a “I’m going to have to make a few calls.”
He passed me by, leaving me a little dumbfounded staring after him.
“You coming?!” He called back and I quickly ran after him.
This chapter is part of a Second draft project. ‘To be Mortal’ is a writing exercise in which I include readers in my drafting process. The good and the inevitable ugly plot holes all out on display. If you want to practice your editorial skills. Have at it. I truly wish to have this be an open exercise for everyone.
