𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝘿𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 (on hold)

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙤𝙣 - 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠 (𝙑𝙄)

"God no! He's fucking a killer for fucks sake!" I shivered in disgust at the thought of having romantic feelings for the rough teenager. "Though, he is hot. I'll give him that. Like a bad boy rough kid type of look."

Quentin let out a laugh, making me smile.

"Anyhow, let's not talk about that. What we need to do is figure what the hell is in there books." I said handing him a journal. I grabbed a different one and pried it open and flipped to the the first page.

BENEDICT BAKER

The name wasn't familiar to me. Quentin also didn't recognize the name. My fingers brushed against the thick paper yellowing with age.

My eyes scanned the first page, and I began to read out loud so Quentin could also see what was in the journal. "I began my search in the summer of 1956 after hearing of the town of Weeks, a place that had an unusual number of missing persons reports. America is filled with such towns. But what made this one more odd than some, was that there had never been a report of a body found. Indeed, the number of open missing cases stood at a staggering 364, the last of which happened a mere ten weeks ago. Thus I embark on my journey."

"When was that written?" Quentin asked me as I scanned the page looking for the date. "September 12, 1956." Quentin nodded in response.

"Well since this journal is here in this realm then that means it probably belonged to a survivor." I told Quentin, running my fingers across the words printed in ink. "Probably one of the original survivors."

"What do you think happened to him?" Quentin asked me. I stayed quiet because I had not one clue to what happened but also because I didn't really want to say that he had probably died. "Who knows, maybe he escaped." Though, we both knew it was unlikely.

The next entry was dated September 24th. "It only took me a few hours upon my arrival to feel the malignant presence that lurked in the forgotten town of Weeks. Its buildings and structures in various stages of decay, all of them abandoned to the ravages of time. I visited the library in Wetherfield, a nearby town. It didn't take me long to find information about the region. Once a vast, prosperous and sprawling industrial area, Weeks, suddenly became a ghost town, not through the lack of iron ore, but on account of a series of terrible disasters. Once again, I had found a place touched by the darkest of evils, so powerful that it spread like a virus in the area, consuming the world around it, rotting the core from within. The locals of Wetherfield would not discuss or talk further of the town of Weeks. The locals acted like the sort of thing you would see in your weekly Penny Dreadful, their eyes wild with terror. What happened here?'' My voice filled the air as Quentin gave me a 'what the fuck look'.

"Honestly, though, why would this dude even try to look for the entity's realm?" Quentin asked out loud with a sort of weirded out tone. I shrugged as I my eyes scanned the page.

"The entry says he was actively looking for the realm. Maybe he somehow found it and was sucked in? Maybe there is an entrance, you know? I mean it does say the dude went to Weeks looking for the entity specifically." Quentin claimed as he slumped his body against the wall covered in dry blood. He pulled his beanie down a little bit more to cover his slightly curled hair.

"I mean, I guess that's possible. There has to be someway we can escape. Anything is possible." I set the book down and crawled to where Quentin was. I scooted next to the teenager until my body was next to his and I put my head on his shoulder, resting it. Quentin let out a sigh as he wrapped his arm around me. It was quiet. Not a uncomfortable silence nor a silence filled with stillness. A normal silence filled with content.