Chapter 3 - Mercury p2

He blinked into an elevated wide shot of the apartment.

That’s all “Xxxxx” saw for some time.

Dissociated. Empty. His sense of self, a distant haze.

Muffled sounds came from the room.

“Young Master, Xxxxx, wake up!”

He looked straight down. Someone’s hurt?

An arm protruded from under an upended couch.

The room flashed with light. A pulse nudged everything towards the threatening blob.

The blob, however, was now a mirror.

“Master Xxxxx, snap out of it!” Hendrix yelled, covering his eyes, an arm outstretched.

“Xxxxx” looked from his body to Hendrix, his head bobbing against the ceiling.

The mirror’s surface rippled and began expanding.

Hendrix responded by stepping back and marking four points on the mirror, forming a kite.

The North mark he drew with his right index finger, thin wisps of gentle light dragging behind his flicking finger.

The mirror responded with a low hum and a push for more purchase, rattling the already displaced dining room chairs.

A low grunt slipped from Hendrix.

He pulled his arms back, lowered his stance, and thrust them into the East and West points.

Drawn simultaneously, left pinky carved the West, middle finger the East.

A steady flow of air circulated the apartment. Curtains danced and kitchen utensils joined the second round of interior redecoration.

Hendrix’s fist clenched.

An air current surged from his ankles.

The bedroom doors complained.

All the marks emitted a frequency, twisted and synchronised in canon until they harmonised with a definite click.

The mirror cracked.

Hendrix looked back at Xxxxx. Only he stood between this growing force and his late Master’s heir.

He clenched his jaw and made the final push.

The South mark appeared and he punched both fists into it, rotated his wrists, then interlocked his fingers.

West, East, and South marks pulsed. The North mark expanded and began to tick to the completion of the binding.

Handprints began indenting the wall behind the mirror.

Hendrix? Is that you?

Hendrix bared his teeth as he flowed into a series of stances.

Each one invigorated a mark and upset the mirror further.

The mirror screeched.

Xxxxx clasped his head, his form flickering wildly.

“Stop it. Stop screaming. I don’t. I-don’t know. I don’t KNOW what that IS!”

With a light pop, an ethereal bird appeared.

The mirror frantically struggled against the binding, sensing the end.

The marks pulsed, holding it in place.

Hendrix relaxed one arm and lifted a finger.

The bird landed on it.

“Please, begin with Young Master.”

The bird chirped and dove towards the hovering projection of Xxxxx.

It hung in front of his ethereal face, berating him with chirps.

His flickering form began glowing.

The bird flew around him, chirping madly.

Xxxxx’s body jolted, flipping the couch over and freeing his body.

With a downward spiral around his form, it pulled out of its descent and shot towards the mirror.

The bird entered it.

The mirror tilted back and groaned like old steel.

Cupboards and drawers stopped banging.

The curtains sagged lifeless.

Utensils, electronics, and furniture fell over a final time.

The handprint indents receded with hisses.

The chaos fell into silence.

The mirror vibrated.

The cracks webbed until it silently shuddered into shards.

Shards into dust.

Dust into… nothing.

Where… am I?

He looked down. His body twitched.

His ethereal eyebrows jumped up and pulled towards the centre.

Is that my-my body?

“It’s about time, Young Master,” he said, easing out of the pose and straightening himself up.

Hendrix? What happened? Last thing I remember I was holding the box and then. I felt so… blank.

“Well, as unfortunate as that might be for you, it was an opportunity I couldn’t allow to be squandered.”

Hendrix pulling out a talisman was the last thing Xxxxx saw.

———

Door creaks open.

“Hey kiddo. Another nightmare?”

Gabriel fully stepped out from behind the door. He fiddled with the hem of his pyjamas, head tilted down.

He nodded.

“You still too old to snuggle with your mom?”

“I am a little shorter than the other kids, but I’m still twelve. I’ve earned my stripes,” he defended.

“You are a growing boy. I’ll understand if you don’t want to add on to all those shameful memories you’re trying to purge,” she said, waving a raised hand side-to-side.

He looked back into the hallway, her voice trailing off.

“I can make exceptions,” he responded.

Gabriel walked over to his mother, feeling safer with each step.

… and the further away he got from the mirror in the hallway.

———

Xxxxx didn’t have much as far as interior decoration went.

His apartment would’ve been better off without him.

Kitchen drawers and cabinet doors hung ajar.

One of the dining table’s legs stuck out from behind the kitchen counter.

The TV lay on the dining room floor, pieces of plastic and electronics scattered.

The walls were cracked.

The only good thing that came from the encounter was that it got rid of the hideous vase Aunt Sophia gifted him a few birthdays ago.

Xxxxx opened his eyes.

“Don’t get up just yet, Young Master.”

Xxxxx blinked a few times. Looked from the ceiling to a Hendrix looking down at him.

“Hendrix…” He groaned. “What is the Fold?”

Hendrix just looked at Xxxxx, but he could tell he was surprised.

“Folds are liminal spaces connected to the psychology or history of a building,” Hendrix explained.

He stared at the ceiling.

Covered his face with an arm.

Sounds of the evening traffic filled the apartment.

He lay there awake, saying nothing. Hendrix corrected a chair and sat down in silence with him.

When he was ready, he said:

“Does the structure of a building shape the logic of these pocket dimensions?”

Hendrix nodded. “And the inhabitants.”

Xxxxx frowned.

He lifted a hand.

Hendrix stood, clasped it, and pulled him to his feet.

“What did you see?”

Xxxxx stumbled, turning the nearest upturned chair into a crutch.

“Not so much saw as heard,” he said, holding the back of his head. “The Folds call. All will fall.”

Hendrix remained silent.

Xxxxx lifted his hand and the coin appeared in it as though it’s always been there.

He looked at it.

Hendrix moved to the window, slightly parting the curtain and surveilling the city.

“Hendrix, the way the coin always seems to appear in my hand… is that some kind of reality warping?”

The coin glistened.

Xxxxx noticed Hendrix looking at the coin.

“I take that as a yes. Is that why you couldn’t tell me to just avoid the box altogether?”

“Yes,” he responded, blinking a few times.

“Was Grandfather…”

Hendrix lightly touched his ear.

The gesture Hendrix taught him when he was younger, meaning it’s not safe to talk openly.

Xxxxx waddled over to the damaged kitchen counter and ran one finger along a crack.

He placed the coin on the counter and tapped it twice.

Hendrix tugged on his glove. One tug for yes. Two, no.

“What can you tell me, then?”

“I’ve gathered this much from the encounter. The missing coin has been claimed.”

Xxxxx felt the advances of unease stir.

“What does that mean exactly?”

“The trials have been triggered a lot sooner than projected.”

“Projected by who? Grandfather?”

“No. Your Grandfather…”

Xxxxx lifted himself onto the counter and sat there, slouching. Staring at his thighs, uncertain how to feel.

“You should rest, Young Master.”

“Right now I need answers. I almost died because of this!” He thrust the coin into the air.

Hendrix righted a couch that leaned against the wall vertically.

He dusted it and moved towards Xxxxx.

“Take this,” Hendrix offered.

He took the vial, looked at it, then at Hendrix.

“It’ll heal your wounds over a short period of time.”

“You have health potions?” he said in disbelief, examining the item he knew only existed in games.

Hendrix moved over to the wall that had handprint indents during the fight.

He examined the wall, looked up, and back at the wall.

“An entity,” Hendrix paused. He looked at the box.

“An entity periodically selects people for a process.”

Xxxxx drank the potion while listening.

“What you were warning me about earlier,” he said, wincing from the taste.

Hendrix nodded. He retrieved the box that lay under the flap of a carpet, moved to the kitchen counter, and placed it near Xxxxx.

“Will I be able to do what you just did?”

Hendrix didn’t respond.

A weak chuckle escaped him. “Theon is going to lose his marbles!” he said, tossing the vial into the air and catching it.

A reprimanding pulse from the box shook the open cupboards and drawers.

Xxxxx tensed, his heart thumping.

“You must take these challenges seriously. Remember the language and pay attention to subtle signs,” Hendrix said, looking at him.

“Is that how this entity communicates? Anything but direct conversation?”

Hendrix tugged his glove once.

A familiar chirping came from Hendrix.

Hendrix looked up. He tilted his head and nodded.

“I must leave. It’s advisable that I hang on to two of the coins until you complete the trials.”

Xxxxx opened the box and presented them to him.

Hendrix pulled out an envelope version of his talismans and slipped them in.

“How long will that be?”

The ceiling cracked.

The cupboards and drawers opened and closed furiously.

Xxxxx hopped off the counter and crouched defensively.

“It’s alright, Young Master. The worst is over for now,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“All that it means is that I need to go and you need to accept the challenge.You have three days.”

Hendrix looked at him, nodded, and promptly left.

Xxxxx watched him leave.

He then pulled out his phone and dialled.

“Hello.”

“Theon! Order food and bring out the good stuff. You will not believe the shit I’ve been-“

The call disconnected.

Xxxxx scowled at his phone.

You have a new notification.

He tapped it.

//Amateur Pen Masters\\

Join: yes/no?

\\Author Notes//

Competition Time.

In this chapter, what is the connection between the Notebook Trials and the Shard Catacombs?

Rewards?

A 1 month trial to the Watchers Tier which includes:

Rules:

DM me your answer : 

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