blairWitcher
Resident Soultaker
Warning to Pedants and Critiques: The person who wrote this mess has a bad, really bad, case of IGS (incorrect grammar syndrome). Please feel free to give him/her a good "dismembering". I only suggest you do so in a nice, sensitive way. 
OVERVIEW
Introduction
OVERVIEW
What would you do if one day, as you went to a secondhand bookstore to buy a nice R.A. Salvatore book, you came across a large black book with strange unknown words written haphazardly on it's front cover? Intrigued, you took it from the shelf and opened it, only to find out that it was empty except for the first six pages which contained nothing but a very long list of names in minuscule writing.
You asked the shop owner about it and he said he doesn't know that such a thing existed in his shop and that if you wanted it, you could have it - free. Nobody sane enough would turn down something that doesn't have a price so you took it and brought it home with you.
That evening as you settled to do your homework, you began to notice something about the book, now lying on the corner of your desk. Those strange writings on the front page where no longer strange. It's as if they have rewritten themselves to unravel its own mystery - It was title followed by what seemed a strange order of instructions which said:
You asked the shop owner about it and he said he doesn't know that such a thing existed in his shop and that if you wanted it, you could have it - free. Nobody sane enough would turn down something that doesn't have a price so you took it and brought it home with you.
That evening as you settled to do your homework, you began to notice something about the book, now lying on the corner of your desk. Those strange writings on the front page where no longer strange. It's as if they have rewritten themselves to unravel its own mystery - It was title followed by what seemed a strange order of instructions which said:
THE HELL BOOK
1. Any name of a person, once written on its pages, will die of brain seizure exactly 66 seconds the moment the last letter of the name was written.
2. While writing a name, one must have a mental picture of the person's face focused in his mind.
3.You may also place the specifics about when and how a person should die by placing a comma after the name. this should be finished 66 seconds before the last letter of the name was written down. failure will revert to that person dying due to brain seizure.
4.Once the Hell Book is held by a person other than the current owner for 66 seconds, the ownership of the Hell Book will be passed unto him.
5. If a person who held the Hell Book wasn't able to hold it for 66 seconds, that person will die instantly of brain seizure.
It sounded like a spooky "ghost" joke. As you were about to throw that "stupid" book out of the living room window, headlines appeared on the evening news report about a robbery taking place on a grocery store somewhere in the city. The Robber,armed with a gun and taking a small child hostage, caught your attention and you decided to have a little experiment. You took a pen from your pocket and as you opened the sixth page of the book and looked intently at the robber's name and face flashed on the television screen. As soon as you have written down the name, you took a stopwatch from your shirt pocket, clicked the "start" button and waited.
five seconds...
twenty...
thirty...
fifty...
sixty two... sixty four...
and, instantly, the moment you pressed the "stop" button, the robber fell to the ground; shaking terribly like a man caught on fire and, without any scientific or logical explanation, died amidst millions of viewers worldwide.
Disbelieving, you looked back at the numbers projected on the stopwatch's display.Exactly 66 seconds. It was then that you looked again at the front cover of the book and read the 1st rule clearly:
"Any name, once written on its pages, will die of brain seizure exactly 66 seconds the last letter of the name was written."
This and a lot more happened to Christopher Jacobs when he became the new owner of THE HELL BOOK.
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1. Any name of a person, once written on its pages, will die of brain seizure exactly 66 seconds the moment the last letter of the name was written.
2. While writing a name, one must have a mental picture of the person's face focused in his mind.
3.You may also place the specifics about when and how a person should die by placing a comma after the name. this should be finished 66 seconds before the last letter of the name was written down. failure will revert to that person dying due to brain seizure.
4.Once the Hell Book is held by a person other than the current owner for 66 seconds, the ownership of the Hell Book will be passed unto him.
5. If a person who held the Hell Book wasn't able to hold it for 66 seconds, that person will die instantly of brain seizure.
It sounded like a spooky "ghost" joke. As you were about to throw that "stupid" book out of the living room window, headlines appeared on the evening news report about a robbery taking place on a grocery store somewhere in the city. The Robber,armed with a gun and taking a small child hostage, caught your attention and you decided to have a little experiment. You took a pen from your pocket and as you opened the sixth page of the book and looked intently at the robber's name and face flashed on the television screen. As soon as you have written down the name, you took a stopwatch from your shirt pocket, clicked the "start" button and waited.
five seconds...
twenty...
thirty...
fifty...
sixty two... sixty four...
and, instantly, the moment you pressed the "stop" button, the robber fell to the ground; shaking terribly like a man caught on fire and, without any scientific or logical explanation, died amidst millions of viewers worldwide.
Disbelieving, you looked back at the numbers projected on the stopwatch's display.Exactly 66 seconds. It was then that you looked again at the front cover of the book and read the 1st rule clearly:
"Any name, once written on its pages, will die of brain seizure exactly 66 seconds the last letter of the name was written."
This and a lot more happened to Christopher Jacobs when he became the new owner of THE HELL BOOK.
----------------------------------------------
Introduction
What is life?
For me, its a constant struggle between good and evil, right versus wrong, and tragically, despite all the efforts we put up to ignore it, evil always gains the upper hand in the everlasting battle. Everyday we see and hear signs of it, the symptoms of a deadly social virus, on the streets and alleyways of our modern cities and suburbs, making headlines on the midnight news flash or the front pages of the morning newspaper - a man selling his wife and children to slavery for a kilo of dope, a syndicate mastermind escaping the weight of his crimes due to "lack of evidence", a tyrant slaughtering millions of people for personal gain or a serial killer decapitating innocent victims without remorse.
I hate them, those monsters. I wish they'll all just drop dead and rot in everlasting damnation. The world will be a better place without these abominations running about.
But what are we doing about it? Our leaders and representatives promise us on election days to uphold the laws and regulations "for the common good" of all mankind. but what of of the "common evils"? They strive hard to come up with solutions but, question is, are they implementing it? Upholding it?
I think not.
But it'll all change soon.
I'll catalyze the change for a better society.
My name is Christopher Jacobs and I'll bring a new light to a darkening world.
For me, its a constant struggle between good and evil, right versus wrong, and tragically, despite all the efforts we put up to ignore it, evil always gains the upper hand in the everlasting battle. Everyday we see and hear signs of it, the symptoms of a deadly social virus, on the streets and alleyways of our modern cities and suburbs, making headlines on the midnight news flash or the front pages of the morning newspaper - a man selling his wife and children to slavery for a kilo of dope, a syndicate mastermind escaping the weight of his crimes due to "lack of evidence", a tyrant slaughtering millions of people for personal gain or a serial killer decapitating innocent victims without remorse.
I hate them, those monsters. I wish they'll all just drop dead and rot in everlasting damnation. The world will be a better place without these abominations running about.
But what are we doing about it? Our leaders and representatives promise us on election days to uphold the laws and regulations "for the common good" of all mankind. but what of of the "common evils"? They strive hard to come up with solutions but, question is, are they implementing it? Upholding it?
I think not.
But it'll all change soon.
I'll catalyze the change for a better society.
My name is Christopher Jacobs and I'll bring a new light to a darkening world.
------------------------------------------
CHAPTER ONE
Everything had been different ever since Mom and Dad died on an "accident" a year ago. During the holidays, I'm staying at Aunt Agnes' farm at Nashville. I helped her and Uncle Tom with the household chores. She's a nice lady, always smiling and homely in her warm purple dress and flowery apron. She's an apple pie expert and had always cared for me like a son even though I wasn't. Uncle Tom, on the other hand, was a quiet and calculating man like Dad was. He's a policeman, a police chief to be specific, and its only natural for him to develop that kind of attitude in his line of work. They had no children of their own, which might explain why they wanted to take me in when my parents died.
I wished I could be with them all year round but I had other things in life to attend to.
Most of the time, though, I stayed at our old house in San Diego with our old butler Jack taking care of me. If it were up to me, I would have sold the place a few months ago if not for him. Jack had served my family even before I was born and had always been my best and loyal friend.He stayed because Dad made him my personal guardian and overseer of the family estate till I turned 18 if anything should happen to him or Mom.
But I think that's not it. He stayed because he doesn't want to be alone too.
He had a family once, just like me, but his wife and daughter died during a bank robbery three years ago so he really knows what it felt like to lose someone you really cherished. He was the one who took me out of school and drove me to the hospital the night of the incident. He was there when the female doctor came out of the room and said that my "Mommy" and "Daddy" were gone. He was there by my side during the funeral, when I was crying my eyes out in front of the tombstone where Eveline and Samuel Jacobs were buried to rest in everlasting peace.
Peace... what a load of crap.
Luckily, Dad had prepared for the worst scenarios in life and had planned ahead to secure my future. All the family's assets and accounts was handed down to me by Dad's personal lawyer, Mr. Martin, a few weeks after the funeral and told me that I had nothing to "worry" about financially because "everything's being taken cared of." I never really liked those words but I can't do anything more but trust on them.
I felt cold and alone and I don't know anything worth doing anymore.
With the school's permission, I took a year off from the normal school hubbub and cowered like a fetus in Dad's old library, reminiscing old memories and photographs standing on the mantle piece. I remembered being weak for crying and skipping meals for two days. It was all painful.
But then came something much worst.
I heard on the news, a month later, that the suspect for my parents' death, a certain Evan Birch, the one who "accidentally" crashed a Pick-up van on Dad's car, had been "cleared "from all legal charges. Angrily,a blood haze overcame me and I ended up smashing dad's old baseball bat on the television.
Cleared of all charges? It doesn't make sense.
I cried after that. I wanted to do something, anything, to bring my family the justice they deserved. But how could I do that? I'm just a boy? If those lawyers and justices on the courts, with all their legal skill and knowledge, had been outsmarted by verbal lies and deceit, how could I?
That was then when I realized what I wanted and what I should do.
I had to be strong. I had to be cold and prepared, mentally and physically, If I am to survive this harsh world.
I need to survive it first so that one day, I could have my vengeance.
That day,I embraced the dark side of my soul and promised to become the devil. I never knew that the devil himself would come to help me, a few months later, In the form of a book.
(to be continued...)
I wished I could be with them all year round but I had other things in life to attend to.
Most of the time, though, I stayed at our old house in San Diego with our old butler Jack taking care of me. If it were up to me, I would have sold the place a few months ago if not for him. Jack had served my family even before I was born and had always been my best and loyal friend.He stayed because Dad made him my personal guardian and overseer of the family estate till I turned 18 if anything should happen to him or Mom.
But I think that's not it. He stayed because he doesn't want to be alone too.
He had a family once, just like me, but his wife and daughter died during a bank robbery three years ago so he really knows what it felt like to lose someone you really cherished. He was the one who took me out of school and drove me to the hospital the night of the incident. He was there when the female doctor came out of the room and said that my "Mommy" and "Daddy" were gone. He was there by my side during the funeral, when I was crying my eyes out in front of the tombstone where Eveline and Samuel Jacobs were buried to rest in everlasting peace.
Peace... what a load of crap.
Luckily, Dad had prepared for the worst scenarios in life and had planned ahead to secure my future. All the family's assets and accounts was handed down to me by Dad's personal lawyer, Mr. Martin, a few weeks after the funeral and told me that I had nothing to "worry" about financially because "everything's being taken cared of." I never really liked those words but I can't do anything more but trust on them.
I felt cold and alone and I don't know anything worth doing anymore.
With the school's permission, I took a year off from the normal school hubbub and cowered like a fetus in Dad's old library, reminiscing old memories and photographs standing on the mantle piece. I remembered being weak for crying and skipping meals for two days. It was all painful.
But then came something much worst.
I heard on the news, a month later, that the suspect for my parents' death, a certain Evan Birch, the one who "accidentally" crashed a Pick-up van on Dad's car, had been "cleared "from all legal charges. Angrily,a blood haze overcame me and I ended up smashing dad's old baseball bat on the television.
Cleared of all charges? It doesn't make sense.
I cried after that. I wanted to do something, anything, to bring my family the justice they deserved. But how could I do that? I'm just a boy? If those lawyers and justices on the courts, with all their legal skill and knowledge, had been outsmarted by verbal lies and deceit, how could I?
That was then when I realized what I wanted and what I should do.
I had to be strong. I had to be cold and prepared, mentally and physically, If I am to survive this harsh world.
I need to survive it first so that one day, I could have my vengeance.
That day,I embraced the dark side of my soul and promised to become the devil. I never knew that the devil himself would come to help me, a few months later, In the form of a book.
(to be continued...)
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