An Acorns Flash Fiction Feature
By: Karl El-Koura
Thank you for joining me on this live read-through of what’s supposed to be the greatest horror novel ever written. The book is claimed to actually be haunted by readers with overactive imaginations. On Goodreads the reviews spend more time chronicling people’s paranormal experiences than discussing the novel’s literary merits. The Amazon reviews are a series of warnings to read the whole thing in daylight and surrounded by friendly people.
So consider yourself warned, especially if you’re on your own at night! (With apologies for spoiling anyone’s fun, though, I don’t believe a word of those “experiences.”)
I stand by what I said, but boy do our minds play tricks on us! Especially in the dark.
I’m in my office, sitting in my most comfortable chair and sending these notes from my phone as I read through the book—yes, to all the fifteen people actively watching this thread right now. My wife and kids are asleep upstairs. No one else is in the house. But, just as the main character catches a glimpse of the dark creature crawling across the ceiling of his bedroom, I heard something in our basement. Thought I heard something.
It’s kind of funny, really.
I heard it again, just as the main character goes for a midnight run.
For the record: no one else is in our house. I went downstairs; I turned on all the lights. Just to be sure, right? No one is there. Obviously the novel’s bleak atmosphere is seeping into my mind! What possessed me to start reading this book so late at night?
Well, if you believe the people on Goodreads—and I don’t!—the only way to exorcise whatever has come into your house is to finish reading the novel.
I was convinced the reviews were fake, everyone’s tongue planted in their cheek. But I’ve been hearing the noises in the basement again. They started up as soon as I came back to my office and sat down. Someone’s walking around in my basement, trying to be quiet about it, but I can hear the footsteps.
I skipped ahead, to the last paragraph—he finally decides to seek help for his addiction to amphetamines, which of course is what is causing his insomnia. The sun rises over the hospital as he checks himself in. I skipped ahead, thinking I’d…stop hearing things. I’ve read the final paragraph twice. The first time I heard a creak on the stairs…I know it’s a step mid-way up the stairs that creaks. The second time I heard nothing for a while, and thought everything was fine and started laughing at myself, then I heard it—the sound of weight on the top landing, where the carpet gives way to tile. The reviews don’t tell you this, because they’re not real—most of them, I mean. But: you can’t skip ahead.
I’m typing into my phone whenever I feel myself getting tired. It helps me stay focused. Alert. I’ve read as quickly as I can, but I can’t finish, can’t finish before it reaches me, whatever has come up from my basement and is now slinking toward my office.
I’m going out to face it.
There’s nothing there. I’ve turned on all the lights on the main floor, all the lights in the basement. I’ve left everything on. Should I wake up Maisy? But she’ll laugh at me. Deep breath—I am being crazy, though. There’s nothing there!
Heard the footstep—just outside my office. I’m so tired—but I can’t go to sleep. I have to keep reading to the end.
The door to my office is open. I should’ve closed it—but, no, I couldn’t do that! Close myself in. But I can feel it, sense it—I’ve felt it for the last page or two, standing there, watching me. I don’t want to glance over; I think I know what I’ll see. I want to finish reading this book.
I’ve caught myself trying to fall asleep. My eyes having a mind of their own, trying to trick me into giving them what they want.
I saw it. I couldn’t take it anymore, not knowing—I looked over, and it retreated, but not before I glimpsed its light-sucking voidness. Like looking into a hole in reality. It’s the Netherwere from the novel, the shadow-creature that wants to take over the main character’s body and life. I saw it.
What does it want? It wants me to fall asleep. Like the Netherwere in the novel, its power is greatest in the liminal state between wakefulness and sleep. Only in that moment—in the novel, I mean—can it leap forward and inhabit you, evicting you from your own body, taking over your life, turning you into a Netherwere to seek out your own tired victim. It stalks our hero but never gets him, because he doesn’t fall asleep—at least, not until he checks himself in.
People…it can’t stand other people. I should wake up Maisy. It’s a small price to pay, being laughed at, isn’t it?
But if I can just power through to the end of the book, I won’t have to explain why I woke her up in the middle of the night like a frightened child. I can make it.
Caught myself again, drifting off. Can’t let that happen.
Well—I hope I didn’t pull your leg too long. There is no such thing as Netherweres, and they can’t enter our world seeking bodies for themselves.
No, the claims of this book being haunted, or being a conduit to another reality, are not true, of course. It’s a very good book.
You should read it for yourself.
About the Author:
Karl El-Koura lives with his family in Ottawa, Canada’s capital city, and works a regular job by day while writing fiction at night. To find out more about Karl, visit his website at ootersplace.com.