Manus Conscivit, A successful business manager, lay awake staring at his ceiling thinking about his day...
"67 more reports, Mr. Conscivit," my secretary says as she lets the thick pile of reports slam into my desk. I heave a long sigh of pent up frustration and respond a little labored, "Thanks, Mel." I take off my rectangle glasses and let them fall to the desk. I stare at their sleek black rims and hate the job that I hold. "How did I ever get such a stressful job?" As the business manager of my own practice in law, not only do I have the responsibilities of a manager but the job of a normal lawyer...He turned over in his bed trying to shake off the day's troubles. He lay awake for a couple more minutes before his tiredness caught up with him.
Manus awoke the next morning to the demanding noise of his alarm. Sleepily reaching over he finally shut off the blaring noise. He sat up in his bed staring in front of him for a second, before he really took in what was in front of him. He recoiled in shock as he saw a cartoon like glove attached to an unnaturally long arm with the arm going straight into the floor. The glove beckoned and Manus shook his head and blinked a few times before he looked back at it. He turned his head to the side and wondered where it had gone. Shaking the nonsense to the side and labeling it as a dream he went into his bathroom. After his shower, he stood in the mirror shaving the right side of his face, when he looked back through the mirror seeing the same arm holding a knife above Manus' head. He saw his face go white and spun around and dropped his razor. He looked to where the arm was and it had once again vanished. He looked around the small bathroom searching for where it might have gone. While on his knees by the sink he felt a trickle of liquid on his arm. He glanced at his wrist and saw the long shallow cut left by the razor. He sprung up to the sink and started to wash off the wound. taking some bandage he wrapped the cut and started to put on his suit. While walking to his front door and getting into his car he couldn't shake the arm's image from his head. Why had it beckoned? Why did it turn hostile?
As he approached his office he saw Mel standing with a few clients at the door. He checked his watch expecting to see the time 7:00 am but was greeting by the numbers 9:23 am. He jolted as he saw it and started reaching for the keys in his pocket. Mel glared at him as he approached the door. He fumbled with his keys for a minute as he struggled with the door. Mel was mad at him during this whole endeavor until she stared to notice the changes in Manus' character. He seemed more shy, and aloof than usual. She started to ask about it when she noticed the bandage on his arm. "Good Lord, Manus! What happened to your arm?" His client started to look at his arm and Manus got up from his desk. He criticized in a harsh low tone " Mel, Mel, sh sh sh. Don't scare my clients!" she looked worriedly into his eyes and responded, "Scare them? You're starting to scare me! What happened to you? You're usually so clean cut and level headed, now you act like you've been through psychological warfare!" He sighed and swayed from foot to foot. "I- I just can't tell you yet, alright? I'm-I'm fine, please, don't worry about me," He said as he returned her gaze. She looked him over once again and went back to her desk. She frowned as she watched him sit back down and apologize for the interruption. In his appointment book she scribbled down a psychologists visit.
While driving home Manus kept checking his rear view mirror, and any mirror for that matter, to keep tabs on what was behind him. In only a matter of a few hours he became a paranoid shaking, mess. He clicked the button in his car to open his garage door as he approached his driveway. He pulled in and glanced around the garage before exiting the car. Despite the wonderful salary he made, he chose to have a modest house that was a little secluded from town. Today was the day he finally regretted his choice of house. He opened the door to his car and carefully slid out into the dark garage. He quickly walked over to the door and stepped inside. He looked around the laundry room and started to do some house chores. After he'd cleaned the place and checked everywhere in his house before he started to feel at ease. He began sifting through papers and reports on a case and fell into a monotonous pattern. It was 10:00 before he stopped to look around his living room. He glanced at the front window, the sofa, and the small chair. He smiled and began to get ready for bed. He was happy, all be it a little wary, as he walked up the stairs to his small, yet comfy, bedroom. He laid down and he began to think of the day ahead and how happy he was that he hadn't seen another one of those eerie hands lurking in his house. He drifted off a few seconds later with a pleasant smile on his face.
Manus woke with a start. He thought he'd heard a noise from the attic and sat up in bed. He sat listening for a while, turning his head to catch any sound. He glanced at the clock to see the bright figures of 12:00, right on the dot. He slowly got out of bed, and turned his bedside lamp on. Another one of those arms was in the corner of his room with the palm of the glove facing the ceiling. He jumped at it and started to strangle its wrist. "Why are you here?! Why did you scare me like that yesterday!?" He shouted as he thrashed the hand back and forth. The hands palm slowly turned from the ceiling to face Manus. It paused for a second then gave a thumbs up and pointed to the ceiling. Manus was taken aback by this simple gesture and stared at the quizzical looking glove. Manus hesitated and pointed to the ceiling with a questioning look on his face. The glove again gave a simple thumbs up and pointed to the ceiling. Manus looked at the ceiling studying the rafters and strong build of the house. He walked towards the door keeping his eyes on the arm the whole time. He began to open the door and looked out. He looked back at the hand and it once again pointed to the ceiling and gave a thumbs up. Manus crept into his hallway flicking the lights on. He glanced around and saw no other hands jutting out from the floor. He looked down to the end of the hall to see the attic stairs. Raising an eyebrow he gradually walked toward the staircase. He got to the attic door and scratched his head. "Do I knock?" He lightly tapped on the door that was above his head and waited. A few seconds later he heard the same light tap come from behind the door. He tilted his head in a puzzled look and knocked again. Right on cue, a knock came back from behind the door perfectly replicating his knock. He knocked again and waited for the right time. When it was about time for the response he flung open the door and poked his head in the attic. A hand came out of nowhere and palmed his face and dragged him up into the attic.
He woke up and begin to feel relief thinking it was all a dream. He put his hand behind him to lean back and felt a handful of sand. His eyebrow shot up and he raised his hand to his face seeing the clump of sand in his hand. Still in disbelief he let most of it fall until he had a few grains left. He stuck out his tongue and let the sand fall into his mouth. He instantly spat it out the grainy tasteless bits of rock and began to look around. He had awoke on a beach with a cliff a mile or two down the way. In front of him lay a meadow surrounded by a slightly thick forest. The weather was perfect and it wasn't too hot. He slowly stood up and began to appreciate the ocean view. He began to recall how he got here. He quickly glanced around for any sign of the hands and saw one a few meters down the beach. He hesitantly approached it seeing its palm facing the other way. "It's strangely human with its palm being some sort of... face," he thought to himself. As he got closer the hand's palm turned to face him. He stopped moving and stared at it. It seemed like such a simple creature. A black stringy arm, with a cartoon like glove on its hand. The arm beckoned him to come closer and he frowned. It beckoned once again and he looked around and pointed to himself. The glove gave a thumbs up and Manus cautiously approached.
Manus was a few feet from the hand and looked cautiously at it. It's only communication was hand signals... "What could it do to me here? And where even am I?" Just then the hand twitched and reached over and grabbed his face. "Welcome....." Manus' eyes got wide. "Wha- what are you doing to me?!" Manus demanded. "Calm..." the hand responded with a firm tone. The hand had no mouth or face but by grabbing onto Manus' head it could telepathically share thoughts. These thoughts echoed through his mind like a shout in a concrete tunnel. Manus breathed a shaky breath and thought of what he had to lose... nothing at this point. "May I ask why you were in my house and why one of your kind had a knife?" Manus asked in a slightly calmer state. "Yes," the hand communicated, "We were trying to get you here, do you not remember the beckoning hand?" Manus thought for a moment. "What about the knife then?" "Simply to get your attention one more time," the thought echoed through Manus' head and in a slight echo he thought he heard, "and Mel's..." Manus shook it off and started to wonder exactly where he was. "Well, to answer that with a map would get you nowhere," the hand immediately responded to the unasked question. "Would you like me to show you around?"
To Be Continued....
