The Book of Numbers

Storyteller: When last we spoke our friend had found himself thrust into an adventure of a lifetime due to his Inadvertent acquisition of a small black notebook. The little black book opened doors to limitless possibilities. Twenty thousand dollars richer he did the responsible thing and paid bills, only then was some spent frivolously, but more importantly he funded his next journey. Plane tickets in hand and a hiking backpack full of supplies in tow he headed out to unlock more secrets hidden within The Book of Numbers.

As someone born and raised in the city, he found the small town before him slow and lifeless. As if the world were holding its breath waiting to exhale that life-giving energy, moving in an almost monotonous way completely lacking the excitement and bustle of the home he knew. Public transportation was limited and he was forced to rent a car at the airport, an expense he was not prepared for. Even with a map and GPS on hand, he had to stop for directions twice. The twisting back roads without signs or road names were a challenge. The location appeared accidentally as he nearly drove past the dilapidated structure. The remnants of an old abandoned church were at the address listed within the book. The windows were boarded, the brickwork crumbling, and the roof was caving in. Tagged with graffiti it was hard to imagine that it had once been a house of worship. The entire structure leaned in such a way he worried one wrong move might cause a chain reaction resulting in the building collapsing around his head. A strong breeze could be his undoing. The weeds towered around him as he carved a path in the unsteady earth. Reaching the door unscathed seemed a minor triumph as he hesitantly tested the handle. The building responded to the gentle pressure with a groan of refusal. Even with the building announcing its displeasure, he could tell this was the way in. The door emitted an energy pulse similar to before that beckoned and almost taunted him to come through. Sighing he held the handle tight and used all his strength to force open the door.

A mighty surge of energy caught him with a whoosh carrying him across the magical threshold at great speeds. Thrown into his new surroundings with stumbling steps he tried to regain his footing only to face-plant onto hard stone. Groaning loudly he rubbed his nose hoping it wasn't broken. Raising his head slowly he took in his surroundings. The ruins of an old stone building were all around him. Out of the darkness and shadows came creepy laughter from several directions. A raspy hissing sounding laughter that set his nerves on edge. He quickly got to his feet and began gathering supplies from his backpack. The fairies hadn't laughed last time but he hadn't tripped either and he wasn't going to let them launch a surprise attack again. As there is no field guide for fighting fairies he used what he knew to create his arsenal. Quickly adjusting his sleeves to cover any exposed skin and donning safety glasses to protect his eyes, but most importantly he donned a pair of gloves. His finger still ached and throbbed on occasion. As for weaponry since he took a plane options were limited. He jumped up brandishing his flyswatter with purpose. The laughter became deafening echoing off the old stone. "Hello? Is someone there?" he shouted, feeling as ridiculous as he looked. Ridiculous or not, he had to find the chest. He had taken a leave of absence from work to do this, and already spent the majority of the twenty thousand dollars. The chest in this location promised thirty thousand. Starting forward with purpose, he began looking for the chest, ever wary of the source of the laughter.

The ruins had an appearance of ancient Greece or Roman culture. What must have once been a great pantheon of large pillars and noble statues now leaned and crumbled leaving the floor littered with debris. A loud scraping noise of something being moved gave him pause. Looking toward the noise he saw a stone pillar moving on its own. "Hello?" he asked the darkness, voice shaking. Cautiously he moved closer trying to see who or what was pushing it. The pillar suddenly ceased its movement forward and began to topple towards him. Diving out of the way he landed haphazardly in a pile of debris, narrowly avoiding the pillar as it smashed into a thousand pieces behind him. The smashing sound was eclipsed by the clatter of riotous laughter and clapping. The location of the offenders remained shrouded by a toxic cloud of dust freed by the offending pillar. His temper surged with the realization that someone or something was here. Was it another contender for the chest messing with him? Picking up a rock, he threw it toward the laughter. Scurrying away deeper into the shadows was something large. Well larger than a fairy anyway. Cursing to himself he threw the flyswatter aside. The view had been obstructed but what he did see was something the size of a medium to large dog. It was time to find the chest and get out. Being mauled was not on his to-do list. Moving away from the shadows, he began searching the rubble-filled rooms with purpose. It was clear he was being followed. The sounds of scraping claws and the occasional snicker could be heard nearby but were never within view. They hadn't made a move to attack but they were always close. He bent to better inspect an area when he was struck with something. Panic filled him as he was defenseless in this position but it had stung for just a second. Almost more irritating than painful. The snickering laughter became more rambunctious. Whatever was laughing was right behind him. From his crouched position; he slowly turned his head to catch a glimpse of the culprits. Just as he started to look over his shoulder he was smacked in the face with the flyswatter causing him to fall backward, his safety glasses knocked from his face. Sounds of wild laughter surrounded him now. When he looked this time they didn't flee, they were too busy rolling around hysterically laughing. The culprits were bipedal, roughly the size and shape of a chimpanzee, only hairless with large wings on their backs. He believed he had seen them referred to as imps somewhere and if he was going to keep doing this he needed to brush up on his mythology. They were brandishing his flyswatter like a sword and laughing, a clear mockery of his earlier actions. He begrudgingly got to his feet. Noticing there was a hallway he hadn't searched yet, he turned marching in its direction. The laughter stopped and the imps made a feral threatening sound. It was a sign. Breaking into a run he fled down the hall, the imps angrily screeching behind him. They had taken flight and were quickly gaining on him. Then he saw it. The chest was there at the end of the hall on a pedestal dimly illuminated by candlelight. Nearly there he jumped over fallen debris, careful of his footing. The screeching behind him got louder and angrier with every passing second. The flapping imp wings were close enough that he could feel the movement of the air. The decades of dust being disturbed once again made his eyes sting and water. He was going to make it! He had to! One of them grabbed his backpack and the opposing forces caused it to tear in two. Refusing to be slowed, he shrugged it off his shoulders mid-stride and dove for the chest, his arms encircling it, his body crashing into the pedestal knocking it to the ground. Holding the chest tightly in his arms he spun around and popped the latch staring at the imps with a smirk on his face. They were hovering right behind him, their faces no longer angry but condescending as they started grinning and laughing again. He didn't understand but the pull had started and he wanted out of there. Moving with the energy surge, the sounds of boisterous laughter drowning out any other sounds, he was able to escape unscathed. Appearing back outside the church, the door slammed behind him. The building groaned in dismissal. Looking down into the chest ready to collect his prize he realized the chest was empty. He moved his hand inside it. Turned it upside down and shook it. Cursing the sky and throwing the chest he tried the handle again and banged on the door. The building swayed in response, laughter echoing in the breeze. He had been tricked and had no choice but to try a different page. Pulling the small black notebook from his pocket he found the marked page now blank and realized that not everything is as it seems with The Book of Numbers.