The Invitation to Madness

Jurie’s eyes were blindfolded as soon as she got in a red Alfa Romeo Giulia Ti Sport. Marcus informed her that she would have her ride. Lofive had prepared individual cars for each invited author.

She lost count of how many highways and winding roads they passed. She had no idea how many kilometers and how much time they had driven. Long rides bored her pants off, so she slept. A strange feeling of uneasiness took over the excitement she had when her editor announced the party.

The roaring car engines and honking lulled her to sleep. The darkness brought by the blindfold only made her sleepy. From time to time, the aroma of coffee filled her nostrils. Whoever was driving her to Lofive’s place must’ve been a coffeeholic.

More winding and bumpy roads had been her hammock while lying in the backseat. And after a long, challenging ride, the vehicle stopped.

The annoying sound of the rusty metal gate creaked in her ears like a tinnitus warning before a migraine. She sat and groped for her clothes and fixed them. Fortunately, she wore her most comfortable shirt and jeans. The invitation said they could wear whatever was comfortable. Or it wouldn’t be an enjoyable party if they spent hours in long gowns or cocktail dresses and tuxedos.

The car engine roared again as it entered the gate.

‘Where are we? In Dracula’s castle in Transylvania?’

When the car stopped once more, Jurie heard nothing but the car door opening to her side.

“Miss Jurie, I’m Sebastian. I will be your guide for tonight. We apologize for blindfolding you, but you still can’t remove it.”

Sebastian's voice somehow calmed her nerves. It made her feel like she just had a cup of coffee—she always felt sleepy whenever she had it. That was the exact effect of Sebastian’s voice on her.

“It’s fine.”

A soft palm touched her arm and reached for her hand. “Allow me to guide you inside.”

The surroundings were eerily silent. Not even a gust of wind or rustling tree leaves and creaking branches could be heard. There was no distinct scent in the air that could also help her identify their location. Though she wasn’t good at geography, she knew it was helpful to at least have a mental image of the place she was in. She didn’t even know what time it was, or if the other writers had arrived.

She counted every step she took on the Bermuda grass-carpeted lawn—her mind’s eye told her. At least she could picture something out.

“It’s a pity I can’t see what the place looks like. One hundred sixty,” she muttered.

“What’s that, Miss?”

“Nothing, Basty.” She paused. She realized it was impolite to give someone a nickname, especially in a first meeting. “Basty? Is it okay if I call you that? Sebastian is quite long. I’m not good with names. I can’t even find good names for my novel characters.”

“I’m okay with it, as long as it makes you feel comfortable.”

They climbed several steps of what she assumed were porch steps, but the wider version was similar to those in palaces.

“That’s twenty-six!” She yelled.

“I’m sorry, what?” Confusion registered in Sebastian’s tone.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I just love counting. Are we there yet?”

She heard no response, only a round of applause.

“Please welcome, Jurie Boden! One of the country’s best-selling authors!” Sebastian removed her blindfold. Her jaws hang in shock, seeing a crowd at the banquet. “She will complete the quill of authors who will live in this mansion for ninety days!”

The guests clapped their hands again.

The massive Charleston green hall overwhelmed her. The main hall was approximately 600 square meters, with peripheral areas of 100 square meters allocated for cloakrooms, shadow alcoves, and entrances. 

Above, close to the 9-meter-tall ceiling, hovered six weird-looking chandeliers made from the fusion of an open book and a brain. On top of it was an ink bottle with a quill in it. They flickered with arctic blue and amethyst lighting. The ceiling mimics an ever-shifting night sky — animated constellations glow faintly above, rotating slowly.

The floor is made of smoky obsidian glass, cool to the touch and impossibly smooth. The tables were made of dark wood with mirrored tops. Each is enchanted to adapt its size and layout depending on the group seated. The tall-backed chairs were upholstered in velvet, the color of twilight fog.

“Wait! What?! I can’t stay here for ninety days!” She panicked. She had no clothes other than the pair she was wearing. Tasha and her editor would worry if she didn’t come back. Her landlady might… yeah, right! She had no landlady. Norri had been turned into a young woman who served her.

The crowd gasped at her outburst. Murmurs filled the air. The attendees gave her a disbelief gaze.

‘Am I swooped down to a different world again?’

The unforeseen twists of events made her head spin. The party she thought was only crowded by nine other writers turned out to be a masquerade ball. The women wore their most elegant dresses made of the most expensive fabrics: vicuña wool, lotus silk, shahtoosh, and cashmere were the ones she recognized. The men were in their best tuxedos. The masked, sophisticated attendees’ focus on her made things worse. She could hear their thoughts!

‘Looks like Jurie will be the defiant one in this house. I can’t wait to watch her,’ a woman said. Her belly bounced as she giggled.

‘My bet is on her! She’s going to be the first winner of Lofive’s Quill of Writers House!’ another one said.

‘Lofive is the smartest writer ever born. For sure, he’s just doing this because writer’s block hit him, and he wants to find something to write about.’ A male’s voice echoed in her head. And she realized that it was coming from Basty.

She scanned the enormous room, hoping to find familiar faces. None! She clicked her tongue, realizing that she didn’t know the other invited famous writers.

“I can’t stay here.” She turned back, about to sprint, but Sebastian grabbed her arm. "You can't confine me here without my consent!"

“Miss Boden! You can’t leave! Lovife won’t allow it!”

“Let me go!”

She pulled her arms from his tight grip and ran back to the entrance where they came from, but she couldn’t find it. Instead of the entrance, she was running down a hallway.

“Looks like Jurie is so enthusiastic to start her day one in my house.”

She stopped when a female’s voice spoke. It was the voice of the devil who tricked her.

“You can’t run away from me. We had a deal, didn’t we? Aren’t you enjoying the start of your career?”

“No! Just let me go!”

She kept running down the seemingly endless hallway that became narrower and darker as soon as she reached the end.

“Let me out of her!”

She screamed at the top of her lungs until she ran out of oxygen. Dizziness swallowed her, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to it.

*

Jurie gasped for air as if she were just resuscitated from drowning. She opened her eyes to an unfamiliar room. The ceiling was painted with the image of nature enjoying a beautiful sunny day.

Woozy, she scanned the walls, one of which had a painting of the seaside. Looking at the dancing waves made her hear seagulls and feel its gentle breeze. The smell of the salty water, hitting the pebbled sand, made her stomach rumble.

“Lofive thought you might like this room,” Sebastian’s voice cut her train of thoughts.

She suddenly sat up in surprise. “What Am I still doing here?”

“You passed out because of exhaustion when you see the crowd of guests last night.”

“Yes, I remember now.” She jumped out of bed. “Look, thank you for your hospitality, but I really need to go. Lovife isn’t what you think he is.” She ran for the door not minding her messy hair and morning breath. “Lofive is the devil who tricked me.”

“Sorry, Miss Boden… but the mansion is locked for ninety days. You’re in a reality show, and the entire country is watching you. Matter of fact, we’re streaming live.”

“What?!”

“Writers.” A deep yet calming voice of a man permeated in the room. It came from the CCTV camera with a built-in speaker at the corner of the room. “Since everyone is up, I want you to gather in the living area for the formal inauguration of the very first gathering of writers.”

“That’s your hint. I’ll come with you, so you won’t get lost again.”

*

The two of them stepped in the living room where everyone was. Jurie noticed that every writer was assigned a companion, just like her.

“Welcome to the first ever Lofive’s Quill of Writers House!” the same voice greeted them. “Writers, you’re going to stay in my house for ninety days to just be you. Live the life you want, write as much as you want, enjoy life as it should be. You can explore the entire house and choose your writing nook… enter any room you want. Some are pretty obvious… the others are secret passages to places you might not want to visit. And may I remind you, some doors here are forbidden. NEVER OPEN THEM.”

Jurie observed the facial expressions of the writers in the room. Some of them looked terrified when Lofive warned them about the doors. The others’ eyes glistened in excitement hearing about the challenges they might face.

“Your main goal for staying here is to win the pot money worth six hundred sixty-six thousand dollars! Whoever can produce The Ultimate Story by the end of 90 days wins!”

‘I knew it! Lofive is really the devil! I’m going to get you for sure! I’ll get my soul back!’ Jurie didn’t pay attention to the other things explained to them. She was already plotting, first how to get her signed parchment, and second her escape.

Everyone went back to their room while Jurie decided to explore the mansion. “Basty, do you really need to tag along?”

“Yes, Miss.” He smiled. It was the first time Jurie looked at his face clearly. He was undeniably handsome like the young version of Orlando Bloom. “In case you get lost again.”

She opened every room, except those with the hanging sign where the names of the other writers were written. “Looks like I’ll have a mundane stay here.”

“Shall we go back to your room, then?”

“Nope!” She kept walking until she saw the only white door at the edge of the hallway. It was as white as a blank paper. The specific white sheet that laughed at her whenever she couldn’t produce any word when writer’s block hit her. “I’d like to check that door.”

“No, Miss! That’s off limits! Didn’t you hear what Lovife said?”

“I didn’t hear anything, or I just didn’t care!” She ran fast towards the door, waving her hands in the air, bidding good bye to Sebastian who was running after her.

And when she was in front of it, she pushed the door open only to be surprised by darkness… a void. A blackhole!

She attempted to close to the door and run back to Sebastian but it was too late. Darkness gradually pulled her in stronger and stronger.

“Basty! Help!”

“Miss!!! Grab my hand!”

Sebastian ran fast towards her and extended his arm, but he couldn’t save her in time. Jurie closed his eyes in terror of what would happen next.

She shuddered as the storm-like cloud inside the sucking hole narrowed. It was dark as night all around, not a single sliver of sunshine got through. But as she went down, flashes of bright light appeared and vanished quickly.

A strong magnetic force from nowhere pulled her deeper down the seemingly endless abyss. She closed her eyes again to escape the reality she was in. But as she did so, lights and sounds percolated into the walls of her eternal fall.