Devionte had always known that clearing out his granddad's house would be a monumental task. He'd been at it for days, sorting through decades of memories, but nothing could have prepared him for the attic. As he climbed the creaky wooden stairs, he felt a sense of anticipation mixed with nostalgia. His grandad had been known for his eccentricities, and the attic was the sanctuary of his quirks.
As he pushed the attic door open, a gust of stale air greeted him. The room was a chaotic jumble of cardboard boxes, dusty old furniture, and forgoten relics of the past. It was the perfect reflection of his grandad's mind_ a treasure trove of eccentricities.
Devionte began sifting through the boxes, unearthing all sorts of oddities. His granddad had collected everything from vintage toys to antique musical instruments. But it wasn't just the objects that fascinated him, it was the stories behind them.
Among the chaos, D found a box labeled "Adventure gear." Curiosity piqued, he opened it to reveal a mishmash of items_ a compass, a magnifying glass, a worn out map of the backyard, and a tiny notebook filled with cryptic symbols. 'It seemed granddad had dreams of grand adventuress, even if they were confined to the confines of his own propert.' Jason thought with a smile.
He moved on to a collection of mismatched socks which had been meticulously sorted out by color, with each pair deemed too unique to part with. An assortment of broken gadgets and gizmos lay in a corner, waiting for the day they might be brought back to life.
He found an old typewriter with keys that seemed to stick in a perpetual writer's block_ a testament to his granddad's failed attempts at writing the next great novel. Nearby, a collection of vintage vinyl records hinted at a musical talent that never quite hit the right note. Jason chuckled at the thought of his granddad serenading the moon on his out-of-tune guitar.
Amid the clutter, D discovered a stack of journals. His granddad had been a prolific writer, not of novels or music, but of personal musings and strange observations. He began reading one of the journals, and a smile crept across his face as he immersed himself in his granddad's world.
"Day 57: The squirrels are plotting"
The entry talked about how the neighbourhood squirrels were engaged in some sort of covert operation. He had documented their activities daily, complete with sketches of squirrels in tiny espionage outfits.
"Day 112: Conversations with the Mailbox"
Apperently, the mailbox at the end of the driveway had been his granddad's confidant. He wrote about a mailbox as if it were a wise sage, dispensing advice on life's deepest questions.
"Day 365: The great toaster conspiracy"
His granddad had been convinced that his toaster was a part of a global conspiracy to control breakfast. He had even drawn elaborate schematics detailing the toaster's supposed communication with the coffee maker.
Devionte couldn't help but laugh as he read these entries. His grandad's eccentricities had been a source of amusement for the family , but they had also been endearing. He had never cared much for conforming to social norms; instead, he had embraced his quirks with a childlike innocence.
As he continued to explore the attic, Devionte uncovered more evidence of his granddad's weirdness. There were stacks of newspapers from years gone by, each with handwritten notes in the margins, highlighting peculiar articles about UFO sightings and conspiracty theories. This occupied most of the attic actually; newspapers, posters, photographs and a very large radio.
Next to his grandfather's desk was a large box labelled 'Hauntings'. Jason walked over, reached out to the box and opened it. Inside was a book, nothing else. No notes, no letters, just the book. It had a dark brown leather that was word down, by the use of itn over-time. It wasn't too dusty, so Jason could tell that it was used by his grandfather possibly a few days prior to his death.
He reached for it, examining the outside before running his hand over the cover, the leather rough on his hands.
He flipped over the cover, and saw that quite a lot of pages had been ripped out, probably from some kind of frusterated rage. The next page after that was a journal entry.
Date
"It has been a few days since carver and I began pursuing the mysterious trail of footprints and tracks across the desolate expanse of the moon's dark side. The mission had taken an eerie turn, as we had just discovered remnants of the missing data module and an inexplicable piece of lunar technology. Our sense of isolation seemed to grow as we delved deeper into the enigmatic wilderness.
The lunar days brought harsh, relentless sunlight that illuminated the moon's rugged, unforgiving terrain. The nights plunged us into darkness, with only the feeble glow of the Earth above to provide some illumination. The unceasing silence of the lunar surface was punctuated by only the hum of our rover's wheel aginst the moon's regolith.
We eventually came to a stop. The terrain had changed completely. It didn't seem like there were craters anymore. It looked like the moon had holes in it. Deep dark holes, some too large for us to traverse.
We decided to take a stop there, Ackerman had checked in with us as scheduled, and we gave our reports on everything we had seen. After setting up our luner cabin and having a little bit of our rations, we decided to have a little nap, to refuel after the tedious journey we just had.
I stared at the ceiling for a while, thinking about everyone at home who thought I was in the army. Lying to my family like that really sucks, but who was I kidding, the pay was incredible. With the money I could finally ask out Martha, the pretty girl who lived next to my parents.
She was the most beautiful person I have ever met. Her beatiful baby blues seemed to stare into my soul. He red curly hair complimented her beautiful facial features.
My mind seemed to wander for a while before I finally fell asleep.
I got up and walked out the cabin. In front of me were throbing lights, I felt no fear or nervousness, only a weird calmness. The lights started to dance, before leading me away. It was like I wasn't in my right mind, I followed it through the challenging terrain.
It led me to a pit and hovered there before slowly descending. I decided to climb down with it. A few meters into the whole, my foothold gave way. I smashed the walls of the pit as I tumbled down to the bottom.
My visor was cracked, but luckily for me, it wasn't damaged to the point of fatality. It the pit there was a large hole in front of me, some sort of path. The lights began to dance again, like it was trying to tell me to follow it. Follow it I did, the path was long, and I couldn't see anything but the light i front of me.
After what seemed like forever, it led me to what seemed like a very large chamber, it was as large as three football fields. The light then descended into the chamber staying close to the bottom. I was about to follow it, but I saw something truly horrifying. 'Monsters'. Different shapes and sizes, they were vicious creatures. They began to wake up.
I was about to run away, when something grabbed hold of my legs. It was a large tentacle, it pulled me into the room. I fought back with everything I had, but I didn't seem like it was enough. It eventually pulled me into the large chamber, when every other creature started rushing at me. In my final moments, all I could see was the light hovering above my head.
I shot out of my bed in a scream that woke Carver up. "What's the problem Thompson?!" Carver yelled. "Snap out of it, it was just a nightmare!" Carver gripped my arms as I was still struggling. After a few moments, I stopped struggling and calmed down. "You're okay Thompson, snap out of it okay."
That was the first nightmare I had had in close to eight years, it was just a stupid dream"_
"Here's your Affogato and bagel topped with milk powder" a beautiful feminine voice came from above Jason's head. He was at a café, he had left to go get something to drink. The lady who served the drink was Mellisa, she had beautiful dyed pink hair with big green eyes. Devionte had had a thing for her since the first day they met in highschool.
"How's it going D? It's been a while since I saw you down here. Do you still live uptown?" She asked. Devionte just stared at her lost in her beautiful eyes. "D?" she snapped him back. "Oh, sorry" he coughed it off before continuing "Yeah, I still do. Wanna come over and hang sometime?" he asked nervously.
She smiled and paused for a few seconds, which felt like hell for Devionte by the way, before bobbing her head cheekily. "Aight, when d'you wanna come over?." She smiled again "I'll think about it" she replied.
"Listen, if you want any other thing, just hollar, I have to go wait other tables, okay?" she said, before leaving to go wait other tables, just like she said she would, who knew?
After Devionte finished his meal, he headed back to his apartment uptown. He entered the building and headed straight to the elevator, which didn't work. It was a real shame, because he lived on the fourth floor.
With a grunt of dissatisfaction, he decided to take the stairs. On the fourth floor, his apartment was heavily guarded by a few cockroaches at the entrance. It was a small apartment, but it was just enough for him.
He had a glass of water, got a change of clothes, hopped in the shower, and finally layed on his bed, thinking 'What a boring ass day this was'.
Before he went to bed though, he picked up his grandfather's journal, flipped through quite a few pages. A particular entry intrigued him very much.
The handwriting was very unorganised and tattered, the pages were a mess, but Devionte could decipher what the words meant.
"May 14 1968
After my little nightmare, Carver and I had begun our our relentless pursuit of the mysterious trail of footprints and tracks across the moon. We followed the trail into a particularly large crater, I spotted something unusual on the horizon. At first, it seemed like a trick of the lunar light, but as we drew closer, it became simply undeniable.
It looked almost like a withered tree, its black trunk thick and gnarled, with glowing red veins pulsing through its bark like arteries. It was a stark anomaly amidst the barren, cratered landscape of the moon. The sight left Carver and I speechless.
I maneuvered the rover closer to the strange tree-like structure. The closer we got, the more we noticed the peculiar details. The tree appeared to be constructed of lunar soil and rock, as if it had grown from the very surface of the moon. Its branches extended with an otherworldly elegance, casting an eerie red glow across the lunar ground.
As we approached, we noticed movement around the base of the tree. Bizarre creatures, unlike anything we've ever seen, scuttled about. These creatures had a metalic sheen to their exoskeletons and moved with a fluid grace that defies the moon's low gravity.
Carver and I exchanged bewildered glances. The discovery of the structure and the moon's inhabitants raised more questions than answers. Who or what had created this lunar anomaly, and how was it connected to the missing data module?
Before we could investigate further, an unforseen event occurred. A sudden blinding burst of light emanated from the tree, or so it seemed, in truth I don't remember very well. Carver and I shielded our eyes but couldn't escape the brilliance of the light.
My last memory before losing consciousness was a sense of weightlessness, as if I was being lifted off the lunar surface."