Dark Dimension 1: Depth of Pen Marks

Chapter 6

Mr. Pen Marks found himself standing in his temple, surrounded by the familiar artefacts and symbols he had crafted meticulously over the years. The air was heavy with a sense of anticipation as he soaked in the ambiance of his creative sanctuary.

As he walked through the temple, his footsteps echoing softly, a faint whisper caught his attention. "Are you enjoying yourself here, Mr. Pen Marks?" The voice seemed to come from nowhere, yet it reverberated through the temple walls, causing his fur to stand on end.

Startled, Mr. Pen Marks spun around, searching for the source of the voice. "Who are you?! I'm just dreaming!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with anger and confusion. He took a seat at the edge of his bed, attempting to calm himself down, convincing himself that it was merely exhaustion playing tricks on his mind.

The mysterious voice persisted, soothing and ethereal. "Don't be afraid, Pen Marks. It's just me, the author of your life," it whispered gently, penetrating the depths of his consciousness.

Furrowing his brow, Mr. Pen Marks rose to his feet once more, his gaze shifting around the temple. "What? 'Author of my life'? Stop! I am just hallucinating," he murmured to himself, the words laced with disbelief and scepticism. He tried to convince himself that this encounter was a mere figment of his imagination, a byproduct of fatigue and hunger.

"You have your destiny, Pen Marks, just like your character," the voice continued, undeterred by his doubts. "I sent you here to fulfil your destiny, so that you can escape the world made by your talented hands."

His eyes darted towards the black book resting on the table nearby, its pages filled with the stories he had penned over the years. A mix of fascination and trepidation washed over him as he contemplated the idea of a talking book.

"A talking book? I'm just hungry; a book can't talk," he whispered to himself, trying to rationalise the inexplicable.

Curiosity mingled with scepticism as Mr. Pen Marks took cautious steps towards the book, his hand hesitantly reaching out to touch its weathered cover. The moment his fingertips made contact, a surge of energy coursed through him, tingling with the promise of something beyond his wildest imagination.

He hesitated, contemplating the implications of this encounter. Was it truly the author of his existence speaking to him, or had his creative mind conjured an elaborate illusion? With a mixture of fear and determination, Mr. Pen Marks decided to delve deeper into the mysteries that lay before him.

"I'm here, dumbass!" the book said angrily, causing Mr. Pen Marks jumped in shock. "What the hell?! The book is really talking?!" he exclaimed, bewildered by the unexpected turn of events.

"Don't pretend, I've made you feel many times! You're good at pretending," the book retorted, its pages rustling in a condescending manner. Mr. Pen Marks frowned and held the black book in his hands, contemplating its words. "So... you're a talking book? My author?" he cautiously asked.

"I have a name, dumbass," the book replied with a touch of irritation. "My name is Author J, short for AJ," it introduced itself to Mr. Pen Marks.

Confusion clouded Mr. Pen Marks' face as he tried to make sense of the situation. "Then why am I here? Is there a reason?" he inquired, seeking some clarity.

"Yes. Close the lights and candles, and read the last pages of this book," AJ ordered, its tone commanding and firm.

"What? What do I need to-" Mr. Pen Marks began, but AJ abruptly cut him off, his voice filled with impatience. "Shut your f*****g damn mouth! Maybe someone will hear you," AJ scolded, not allowing any further questions.

Reluctantly, Mr. Pen Marks followed AJ's instructions, closing the blinds and extinguishing the lights in the room. With only the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window, he opened the book to its final pages.

"As the note says, you need to obtain more energy to kill your creation, so that you can return to your reality, to your world. That is your destiny. It was your destiny written by me," AJ explained with a sombre tone.

The weight of the task ahead hung heavily on Mr. Pen Marks' shoulders. He suddenly dropped the book and walked to the window, gazing out into the night. "So, this is my purpose here?" he murmured to himself, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Thoughts raced through his mind as he struggled to come to terms with the reality before him. How could he kill his own works? It wasn't what he had planned. It wasn't what he had envisioned.

"But it's your destiny," he reminded himself, searching for a sense of resolution. "It was written by AJ, my creator. Perhaps there's a greater purpose to all of this," Mr. Pen Marks reasoned, trying to find solace in the notion that there might be a reason behind the seemingly impossible task he was assigned.

With a deep breath, he turned away from the window and picked up the book once again, determined to fulfil his destiny, no matter how difficult or unsettling it might be.

Mr. Pen Marks stood frozen in disbelief, his mind reeling from the revelation that had just been dropped on him. He stared at AJ, his eyes wide with a mix of confusion and fear.

"We need a deal, AJ," Mr. Pen Marks finally managed to say, his voice trembling.

AJ, the enigmatic author of his life, burst into laughter at his words. The sound echoed through the room, tinged with a hint of madness. "This is the deal, Pen Marks. This is already a deal," AJ responded, his voice dripping with amusement. "If you kill them tomorrow, you will immediately return to reality. If you wait any longer, you will live here even longer. But don't wait for the red eclipse; you will be imprisoned here in this world... and there is no certainty."

"Why do I need to do this?" Mr. Pen Marks tried to gather his thoughts, but AJ interrupted him once again, his anger seeping through his words. "Because I'm the author of your life, dumbass! Goodness! Pen Marks, I didn't create a stupid character," AJ snapped.

A sense of helplessness washed over Mr. Pen Marks as he realised the extent of his predicament. He was merely a pawn in AJ's twisted game, trapped within the confines of a fictional reality that AJ controlled.

"But why me?" Mr. Pen Marks pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "Why have you chosen me for this task?"

AJ's gaze narrowed, his frustration apparent. "You have potential, Pen Marks. You have the ability to carry out what needs to be done. And if you don't, you'll be stuck here indefinitely, with no escape," AJ responded, his tone grave.

The weight of AJ's words pressed upon Mr. Pen Marks, the realisation sinking in that he had no other choice but to comply. Reluctantly, he accepted his fate, his mind racing with the implications of his upcoming mission.

"You can start tomorrow," AJ instructed, his anger subsiding slightly. "Just count your steps, don't exceed eight. Remember, every action you take has consequences."

"Hey, AJ," Mr. Pen Marks began, wanting to ask further questions, but before he could finish, the light emanating from the book suddenly flickered and extinguished. Simultaneously, a knock echoed through the room, drawing their attention to the door.

"The dinner is ready," Xiel's voice called from outside, breaking the tension that had filled the air. Mr. Pen Marks and AJ exchanged a quick glance before AJ nodded in acknowledgment.

As they left the room, Mr. Pen Marks couldn't shake the feeling of trepidation that had settled deep within him. The revelations had shaken his perception of reality, and he knew that the days ahead would be filled with uncertainty and danger.

Like Cestus and Mr. Pen Marks sat around the long table, surrounded by delectable dishes, the air was filled with a sense of camaraderie and excitement. The aroma of roasted meats, savoury vegetables, and freshly baked bread wafted through the room, tempting their appetites.

"Are you coming tomorrow?" Cestus asked, his mouth full of a particularly succulent piece of roasted chicken. He looked up at Mr. Pen Marks with curiosity shining in his eyes.

Mr. Pen Marks paused for a moment, savouring the flavours in his mouth before responding, "Oh, playing fencing tomorrow? Okay, I'm in." He smiled, his enthusiasm evident. The prospect of engaging in a friendly bout of fencing clearly appealed to him.

As he glanced across the table, Mr. Pen Marks couldn't help but feel a profound connection with his characters. Each one of them was his creation, born from his own imagination and brought to life through his artistic prowess. They were like his children, innocent and full of potential. However, there was a lingering unease within him. The deal that AJ had mentioned earlier weighed heavily on his mind. He knew he couldn't fulfil it, but it seemed to be an integral part of his characters' destiny. It was a dilemma that left him feeling trapped, unable to alter the course of events set in motion.

Sipping from his goblet of wine, Mr. Pen Marks took a moment to reflect. The characters he had crafted were not mere figments of his imagination. They had lives of their own, with destinies intricately woven into their existence. He understood that he could not control every aspect of their journeys, no matter how much he wished to protect them from harm or guide them along a different path.