The Illustrators Tome

There was a man I knew, an artist, he’s was always drawing in his sketchbook every time I met with him. He drew out his pictures in a simple black book until it went missing, then a week later I found him using another one. It was unlike any sketch book I’d come across, it was a brown leather book with signs of ware along its covers. On the spine were a series of strange characters, none of which I knew of. I asked him where he got the book and he told me a story about meeting a man beneath a bridge, there he was given a key. The following night he encountered a stranger selling goods in the park, it was here where he found the book and traded the key for it.

A rational person would take these claims as a joke, but this would not be the first odd tale to turn true in this town. Regardless of the story, the book was a strange thing. For starters, you could only draw in it with a pen, pencils broke on contact. No pages could be torn out either, it sounds strange but believe me I tried tearing a page and I also tried scissors, neither worked. But by far the strangest of all things is that what occurred in the drawings occurred in real life… Don’t give me those looks, I know what you’re thinking, but all of this is true.

Not long after my friend had first taken the book, we were chatting about nothing in particular, he was sketching the scenery in the park we were sitting in. In front of us was a pond which he added to his drawing and just to add his own touch of style he threw a whirlpool in the center of it. As he did so, the water in the pond began to spin at a slow pace, but still rapidly enough to see a spiral form in the water. This of course we regarded as a coincidence, there was no way that a simple drawing could have caused such an effect, that’s crazy talk… but it wouldn’t be the only oddity.

The following week we began to experiment, we went to a spot with a view of the lighthouse and started drawing. Once he was near finished, we decided to try a test to see if the oddity from the week prior was actually a simple coincidence. So with the sky we drew another spiral, a very detailed one at that, and we bent the tops of a few trees. Within seconds of doing so, the tops of the painted trees were being pulled at, and clouds were beginning to circle forming this strange pattern, they even began changing color. It was… amazing, and scary, but the affect only lasted for a few minutes before everything returned to normal. This was when we realized how powerful the book we had was.

Within the duration of a few months the artist and I thought to change our neighborhood, I would give him some ideas and he would create them. It was a wonderful partnership that we had. We were the un-named hero’s working without doing a thing, we changed people’s lives without ever meeting them. It was nice… sometimes I wish it could have stayed like that.

We continued our cause for a year. At this point we called the book, The Illustrators Tome due to the magic that was done. At this time we had also gone through half of our pages and were taking a break. I was walking down the street, looking for something that needed to be changed, nothing really stood out on that day. On this street there was a gas a station. On this particular day, there were large trucks nearby, seemed ordinary enough. A full minute past and as I turned away to head off, the street was demolished by an explosion, and that was the last thing I could remember before waking up in a hospital

What had happened that day was unusual. A plane had fallen out of the sky, crashing into the gas station and setting the surrounding vehicles on fire. It was… horrific, impossible even, where we were located was in a business district full of high rises, the plane would have struck a higher building and then crash into its neighbor. There was only one possible explanation and it disturbed me.

I ran over to my partner’s house after being discharged from the hospital. I found the place with the front door open and the rooms ransacked. The only trace of him was a note, saying that he didn’t know what had come over him almost as though he was possessed, he apologized over and over. Finally, he said he was taking the book and leaving, going away, a place where he couldn’t do harm. I was shocked, and yet I knew he had to do this, there was no way a drawing could connect him to causing the crash and jail wasn’t where he belonged. If anything he would have ended up in a mental ward if he had confessed.

It’s been five years since I last saw him, but I know he is still around, some nights I can see spectacular images in the night’s sky, people lives being changed in an instant. He’s still following our cause. Yet in spite of these beautiful actions, once in a while there is an incident of turmoil… cost verses effect I guess. They’re not as bad as the first one though, no, never that level of destruction. Perhaps he’s gaining a grip on it… or it’s learning to be like us, who knows?

Why…

Why… it’s a three letter word, yet in spite of this it’s one of the most powerful words within existence.

Why… it’s the start, why are we what we are, why is there a sphere in our sky, why was Hitler so evil, everything you wonder begins with why, even if it starts with what or how… why do you want to know?

Why… we use it to make things clear, everything in the world is fuzzy, humans are wired to find the order within chaos, it’s a part of what we are, and a part of how we operate.

Why... It pushes us to reach what we want, what we need, what we have and what we don’t know.

Why… perhaps it has something to do with instincts or our own gut feelings.

Why… whatever it’s used for, it’s the most important question we ask, why did he do that, why is it done like that?, why do we exist?

Why… are you not asking yourself something?

Why… are you reading this?

Why… is the picture so…weird, what is it to begin with?

Why… are you here in the first place?

Why…?

A Red Bench

On a rainy day, a man was walking along an empty path, as he made the next turn he came along an old red bench with a well-dressed-fellow sitting on it reading an old book. He paid it no mind and was about to continue when the sitter called out "Take a seat." and looked up from his book.

The two men looked at each other and then the one standing took a seat.

"That's the spirit, now what's your name?" he asked.

"Thomas" the one who was standing replied.

"Nice name, what's troubling you?"

Thomas looked at the strange man with confusion. "Excuse me?"

"The weather's bad, that doesn't mean anything actually, personally I like the rain. However, here you are, coming down the path without really any emotion, look at yourself, you don't even have a jacket."

"I could just be enjoying the rain in my own way?"

"Yes, since the majority of mankind who likes to enjoy the rain with a horrific cold afterwards. Come on, let me in."

"Why, I don't even know you."

"Exactly, and I don't know you, we can talk and I know nothing about who you are or your choices. I can't judge you for anything, because I don't know anything!"

"What's your name stranger?" Thomas asked.

"Edward Harrison, the best reader to have lived."

"Reader?"

"Yes, I read books with ease and people just as well, now what's your trouble."

Thomas eyed this stranger, and then began to tell him of all his grievances in his life. Edward listened quietly to this man. Once Thomas had finished his speech, he pulled out a note and wrote on it, Thomas watched him do this with curiosity. Once he had finished, Edward handed the piece of paper to him.

It was a simple phrase:

When there is still air in your lungs, and the blood still flows through your heart, there is still a chance for change...

Thomas read over the piece of paper a few times, at first he was confused, but after a few times the word began to make sense to him. He looked at this once strange man and thanked him for his help.

Thomas then stood up smiling and began to walk again, when he thought of something. He turned back to ask Edward a question, but where the man and red bench once stood, was now an old rusty metal bench with a dedication. Thomas approached the bench and was in shock at what was written.

Edward Harrison

1939 - 1987

He always loved watching people from this little bench

and he loved helping those who needed it

He was indeed, the best reader to live.

The Traveler Beneath The Bridge

        

 In a certain city in the world, there's a small bridge which vehicles travel along, and beneath said bridge is a pedestrian route threw a park. At first glance there's little significance to it, just a quaint way to travel. However if you happen to be traveling under this bridge during the latest hours of the night, when the moon is at its fullest, you may be in for an interesting surprise. During these very rare occurrences you may see a car, a black and silver car with an odd gray decal on the trunk. If you happen to see this car you may be in for a treat.

          Out from the car a figure will appear, it will be dressed in a gray tattered robe with a hood. It will ask you for your name, at this point you may oblige the creature and tell it who you are, or shake your head, turn away and leave.

          If you choose to oblige this creature, you'll be in for an interesting exchange. At this point it will ask you for the time, make sure you check a watch or a clock, don't check your phone. Checking your phone will cause the creature to disappear and you will most likely never see it again. If you don't have a watch say you don't know, it will only shorten its visit.

           Once these things have been established, the final question it will ask is what you desire. This could be anything, love, wealth, fame, a job, whatever it is, tell this cloaked figure.

            Once it knows this, it will then ask you what it is you want to know. He will answer any questions you ask, it is said that this creature has traveled across, every world and star within every plain of existence. It's supposedly the most intelligent creature, if it truly is a real creature. Ask about anything, even if it seems odd or stupid, it won't be offended nor will it hold it against you. If you don't know what to ask then ask for a story, it will speak of strange occurrences and stranger places, things so far-fetched that somehow feel so real. Whatever you want to or need to know then ask, this will probably be the one chance you have to know whatever you wish, without struggling to get it.

               Continue to ask until it stops you, it will say that it has places to be. Don't argue with it, accept that it must go with understanding. Before it leaves the figure will throw you something, a key, then bid you farewell and at the blink of your eyes it and the car will be gone.

               Return home now with the key in your pocket, don't make any detours or stops, go straight home. Once you return, set the key down in a place you will remember or attach it to your key chain. Now at this point, do as you please, record what you've learned or forget it, whatever you do is completely up to you.

               There have been many speculations about the key, some say it unlocks a shed with odd trinkets others have said it changed their life. Whatever the key does is all up to wonder and imagination, but regardless of all the theories the key changes people’s lives in several different ways.

                     Now there is one thing to be warned of, until dismissed do not try to leave, do not ask to come with it and do not make any detours on your way home. If you do so... well no one is quite sure, not because no one's ever asked, but because they can't. Whoever has done so, hasn't been seen since there exchange, they've simply vanished... how odd.

Breach in Security

It was an old building located right in the middle of the city, built of stone and glass,  it overlooked a nice part of the world. Perfect home for the average person, an even better hiding spot for those of great importance, when one thinks of a safe house, one assumes a cabin or house off the grid, not a beautiful building such as this. Which of course furthered the sweetness of the deal, however it’s rare that things can go according to plan.

It was twelve past noon, as the men entered the building, all dressed in black and carrying weapons. There were eight in total; four of them dispersed around the lobby ensuring full coverage, the other four took the elevator up to the penthouse where they knew he would be waiting. The elevator traveled slowly, only adding suspense to the matter, there wasn’t much time to waste. The elevator opened and they exited in haste, two men stayed in the hallway while the other two used a key and opened a door.

The room was large and well furnished, six more men were waiting in the room while a seventh was seated in front of the television enjoying lunch. The men eyed the two newcomers, one stayed at the door while the other approached.

“Sir, we have a problem.” He stated in a deep voice eyeing the man seated in front of the T.V. He was tanned, his hair was blond and face melded into a perpetual look of seriousness, his eyes which were hidden by sunglasses were amber except when he was mad then they darkened to a deep brown.

“What do you mean by problem, Arthur?” Asked the man seated in front of the T.V which he turned off and looked at Arthur. He was pale, and by his size you wouldn't wonder why. His hair was thin and gray and there was no distinction between his head and neck. His deep blue eyes turned to Arthur in wonder.

“Intel came in, chatter between their ranks has indicated they've discovered your location and are planning an attack today. We need to get you out of here right now!” He responded.

“Is there anything concrete which suggests that we need to move today?”

“Descriptions, a building similar to this one, it’s been the only thing we've been hearing about for the last two days, and today it became more intense.”

“That doesn't sound good enough for me. I need to know if it’s this building, if-“

“Sir with all due respect, you know how dangerous they are and that you’re the only witness that could put their commanders away and get rid of them for good, now I personally think you are being unreasonable.”

The man laughed and stood up, “My name is Charles Vickley! I am the president and founder of one of the best computer software and security companies in the world, I am worth Two billion dollars and I am not going to be bossed around by some mall cop! If you think I’m being unreasonable, then there is a bloody good reason why!”

“Let’s get something straight, Adrian Van the man you’re testifying against, invested Fifty million dollars into your company, off the books. In return you made him a security system that can not only alert a system breach, but can also contain it and use it against the attacker. This operation was kept hidden, off the books and everyone who worked on the project besides you is dead leaving Mr. Van’s organization legally untouchable. You right now have two choices, testify against him tomorrow or end up missing like the other thirty, the choice is yours… Also, if you call me a mall cop again, I will break your jaw! Are we clear?”

Charles looked around the room and then nodded his head. “All right… we do it your way.”

“Excellent, now we’re getting the cars ready, you’re to get into the third one with agent Morris, once we are all set we’re going to be traveling as a convoy to a designated safe house where you will stay until tomorrow. At 8:30am we will be transferring you to the courthouse where you will testify against him, that day he will be convicted and imprisoned for life. Then we’ll get out of your life.”

“Just like that, sounds like a piece of cake.”

“Say that after the drive. Everyone, pack-up we are leaving in five minutes, come on time’s a wasting and we don’t have that much to begin with.”

The cluster of agents began packing things as quickly as they could Arthur stood by the window tapping his index, middle and ring finger against the glass in sequence repeatedly while watching them, Charles stood against a wall shaking his head. “All this trouble over the words of a man, how come I need government agents anyway, they never told me why.”

Arthur stopped tapping and looked at him, “Nor did they tell you who you’re testifying against, all for good reasons. The only thing you’re to be concerned with is the actions you and Mr. Van participated in.”

“Good point.”

The agents quickly finished clearing the room and  Mr. Vickley was escorted down to the garage by his entourage of agents all kept tightly together.

The door opened and the men moved down the hall past the stairwell into the garage where ten cars ranging from a nice sports car to an old busted van were waiting for them. “You’re in that one, there are plastic mannequin to make it look like a family trip, just stay quiet and will get you to the safe house.”

The team moved to their cars, Charles was in the van with the plastic family while Arthur was three cars down in an old pick-up truck. The vehicles were all different and licensed as civilian vehicles, it was the perfect plan.

The convoy moved out one by one, they drove down the streets with a few cars in between and if they could, dispersing themselves. As they traveled Arthur watched the pedestrians and other vehicles, it was fool-proof yet something didn't feel right.

Let’s hope the plan goes accordingly.

The drive continued at a slow pace, tensions were high, everything was relying on this trip going as smooth as possible, even the slightest flaw could throw this mission into jeopardy. Nothing could go wrong… yet it would all fall apart within two minutes.

The group continued driving, the van with Charles was at the front of the traffic line, the light turned green and it began to drive. It speed faster than the others leaving the rest of the convoy in its wake, and as it finished crossing the street, the lights for the adjacent lanes of traffic turned green causing a rush of vehicles to begin flowing, which caused a large multi-vehicle accident. Two of the convoy cars were taken out in the accident while the rest were held back.

“What the hell!” Shouted the driver of Arthur’s car, as he slammed on the breaks.

Arthur quickly grabbed for the nearest walkie-talkie and tried to establish contact with the van.

“Number three are you there, number three come in over!”

“We’re here over.” Came a static voice of an agent in the van.

“There’s just been massive accident, we've been cut off from you, pull over and wait for us, over!

“Yeah sure, just give us… What the-?” Loud banging was heard over the speaker, then it became silent.

“Number three, come in, do you copy?”

Still no audio could be heard, then all of a sudden an explosion was seen a few blocks away.

“Oh crap!” Shouted Arthur, he jumped out of the car and began running  towards the smoking mess as other agents struggled to get out of their cars and follow after him.

He slowly approached the flames, there was no doubt about it that was their van. The two agents driving were now a mess of burnt flesh and blood with a foul odor adding another level of unpleasantness. “My god… but how?”

“Sir, there’s no sign of Charles wh-“

“Of course there won’t be a sign of him, he’s probably stuck in the back of the van burnt away falling apart with hot wax clinging to his flaming remains!”

The agent was silent. “Call the fire department, I’ll call boss… This is just wonderful!” He spoke sarcastically walking away from the mess.

The mission was failure… but how?

***

It was around eleven o’clock at night, a black van drove slowly towards a waiting boat. Standing on it was a smug looking man, he wore fine clothes and stood with confidence, he was tanned with a black mustache and hair, and brown eyes.

The van stopped in front of the boat. Three men got out and move towards it, two were completely covered in black while the last one was well known.

“I see our plan worked?” Shouted the confident man.

“I suppose it did Adrian.” He responded.

“Do you think they can figure it out?”

“No, it happened too fast and there communications were disabled, simple failure of technology.”

“They still could have caught onto the-“

“No, there were mannequins, the back of the van will be covered in hot wax making it useless!”

“You’re a very confident man Mr. Vickley.”

The old man smiled. “One would be when he is planning his escape, what of my money.”

“All transferred to the account as planned, I still can’t believe that worked though.”

“Arthur always had a tendency to tap on things, all it took was you watching from a far and me stopping him at the right time. I suppose some common sense as well, after all, I let him do it a couple times, he probably gave 13 taps or so. Had one man not been counting and another watching the cars then… let’s not think about that. What we should think about is getting out of here.”

With that, the two men boarded the boat and began sailing off towards freedom, amused at the success they had achieved.