Nillium Neems (3 page)

I turned to Jeremy, the tattletale still
fast in my grip.

"Are you?" I said quietly.

"Y-you killed someone, Nil. And now you’re
threatening to kill Harold!"

I glanced around worriedly for fear that a
doctor or warden would see this little scene we were causing.
Thankfully, not a one was even in sight. For all of their security
measures within the walls of Atrium, they seemed to be unbelievably
lax when it came to security in the Yard.

So I repeated my question.

"Are you crazy, Jeremy?"

"Yes..." he said slowly, after a moment’s
hesitation. "The doctors say I see things that aren’t really there.
But they are giving me medicine to make it better."

"It’s not medicine, Jeremy. It’s
poison."

The little man’s face went pale. It was not
a pleasant sight and made him look more ill than usual.

"But it’s helping me!" he wailed. "I don’t
see so many things as I used to."

"Then it’s poison. It’s lying to you,
Jeremy. This whole place is lying to us." Harold was still doing
the weird eye-thing. I seriously think he was having some kind of
fit. I shook my head to clear such thoughts from my mind, and got
back to focusing on Jeremy.

"A few of the doctors are okay, but most of
them are cruel. And they let Monsters walk amongst us, yet don’t do
anything to stop them!"

"Monsters?" said Jeremy, in a terrified
whisper.

"Yes, Monsters. They-" but before I could
speak further, I felt a dark presence approaching. I’m sure my own
face went pale with fright, because I knew that presence, that
foreboding, evil, aura. It was the Hooded Man...

Jeremy turned and fled without another word,
leaving me and Harold alone with the approaching horror. I dropped
him to the ground, my hands suddenly shaky as an old woman's.
Harold just lay there, unmoving save for those creepy, staring
eyes. My legs felt like jelly and it took all of my courage to turn
and face the oncoming horror.

There he was. Tall, at least six feet,
features concealed by a dark brown robe wrapped around him. A
cowled hood draped over his face, hiding it completely. If he had
wanted to, he could have passed for a monk or something at some
remote monastery. The kind where pyscho cultists make human
sacrifices before bedtime.

I was screaming inside but couldn’t seem to
move. His mere presence had me paralyzed with horror. So I stood
helplessly as he walked towards me, a slight limp in his step, one
of his hooks dragging on the ground behind him.

Reaching forward with one of his pale,
decayed hands, he placed it upon my forehead, whispering of death.
Instantly I felt a cold chill run through me and I fell to the
ground, shivering. I don’t remember anything after that until I
awoke a day later in the infirmary, pale and sick. One of those
darned IV-drips was attached to my arm. Sigh. Looks like the
doctors managed to get one in me anyways.

Nil, Out.

Day 9

I only just got back to my room. Lost a day
after the Hooded Man attacked me, and then another two recovering
in the infirmary. The doctors put it down to a fever. Yeah
right...

According to my clock it’s 7:00PM in the
evening, but it surely can’t be more than 4:00PM right now. Having
naught else to do with myself, and too weak to do anything
productive (like screaming) I opened my Bible and gave reading it
another try. I used to read it all the time, but after trying to
discuss it with one of my warders one day, it was soon made clear
to me that none of what I’d read was supposed to be in the
Bible.

Confused at this, I’d asked
the man to come see for himself. Obviously deciding to humor me,
thinking I was just being crazy, he decided to read a few passages
for me from John, about the importance of being truthful. That
confused me even
more
, for I’d never heard of a book in the Bible called ‘John’.
Intrigued once the warden had left, I flipped through the Book
looking for any mention of this John character. But I couldn’t find
him.

It was after that when I
began to distrust the Book and first noticed it watching me. Even
now, as I open it and read over the book of Demon’s, I wonder if
what I see is true or if the Book is lying to me. I will reproduce
a verse or two here just so that there is
some
proof of what I say. Though
perhaps it’s just proof that I’m crazy, ha ha.

Demons 1:23-25: For if anyone is a hearer
and not a doer, he is like a man looking in a mirror. For once he
has looked at himself and gone away, he is no longer himself. But
one who looks intently at liberty and abides it, has not become a
forgetful hearer but a doer. This man will be blessed in all he
chooses.

I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it
speaks of liberty, which I’m dear in need of. And ever since
reading that verse I’ve tried to avoid looking at mirrors, just in
case. Not that I’ve ever been allowed to own one.

Anyways, today I decided to try reading over
the book of Merits, hoping if nothing else that it would stop the
Book from looking at me. Merits talked all about making your own
way in the world, doing what you thought was right, etc. Kind of a
do-it-yourself code of morals. It didn’t feel entirely right to me,
but I had nothing else to go on so I went with it.

After a while, not feeling very inspired, I
put the Book back on my shelf and donned my Snoopy Cap. Wearing
that made me feel a whole lot better than reading the Book ever
did. I picked up my Pocket Watch too and lay back in bed fiddling
with it for a while. I turned the hands first right, and then left,
then back and forth. Just to watch them move more than anything
else. It made me sort of happy.

Until, that is, I heard a heavy thump from
over near my shelf. I turned to see the Book lying on the floor.
But I knew it hadn’t fallen. It had jumped... By reading it I had
only encouraged it further.

Starting to feel angry, I hopped off my bed,
walked over and picked it roughly up from the ground, and slammed
it back into place on my little shelf. I watched it for a moment,
but it didn’t move. Slightly mollified, I crawled back into bed and
decided I might as well try and get some sleep.

I was just starting to nod off when I heard
a thump, a papery rustle, and then silence. I cracked one eye open
suspiciously and then both went wide with alarm as I saw the Book
sitting innocently on the edge of my bed.

Enraged beyond measure at this wicked thing,
I leaped upon it, picking it up and looking for somewhere to throw
it. My eyes chanced upon my untrustworthy wall clock and I smiled.
Winding up my arm, I threw it, hoping to end both of these evils in
one moment of rage.

The Book was on a direct
course towards the Clock and I was so sure it would connect. But I
swear on my Snoopy Cap itself, that the Clock actually
moved
upwards
, all the way to the top of
the wall. It avoided my attack completely.

I doubt that I have ever been quite as angry
in my life as I was then, so furious I was completely unable to
move, just boiling over inside. I fully believe that I went into
some kind of seizure during that period, because the next thing I
remember is Doctor Flagham leaning over me and asking if everything
was alright.

Getting unsteadily to my feet, I waved a
quivering finger at the Clock, telling him all about what it had
just done. It was then to my exquisite horror, that I noticed the
Clock was right back where it had always been. I glanced over
towards the bed and noticed that the Book was sitting smugly on the
edge of it. I knew that if I had dared to open it, its eye would be
staring right at me.

The only thing that had
remained where it should have was my faithful Snoopy Cap, loyally
stuck to my head. Near tears, I asked Hammy that whatever happened
to me, to please, please,
please
never take my Snoopy Cap.

"Alright, Nil," he said calmly, leading me
by the hand over to my bed. He actually looked quite concerned
about me, which I guess meant a small something.

"Please?" I said quietly.

"I’ll be sure that nothing happens to it, I
know how much it means to you. Now why don’t you get some rest?
I’ll return in a little while to make sure you’re doing okay."

I nodded. In case I did break out in tears,
I’d prefer to be alone at least. Preserve what tiny dignity I had
left and all that.

"Hey, Hammy?" I asked as he opened the
door.

"Yes, Nil?" he replied, turning back to meet
my gaze.

"Thanks."

Dr. Flagham almost looked embarrassed, like
he was undeserving of any appreciation for his kindnesses.

"Anytime, Nil. Just... hang in there." and
he was gone, closing the door quietly behind him.

As soon as he left, I put the Book under the
mattress where I wouldn’t have to look at it. I then crossed my
arms, stuck out my tongue, and stared defiantly at the Clock. For
once it seemed to be telling the correct time, 5:15PM. Thought it
was probably only doing so for Hammy’s sake, so that he wouldn’t
know it had been lying.

I heard a rustling sound and for a moment
thought it was coming from inside the walls again. But then to my
relief, Mousy crawled out from under the bed, peeking up over the
side and making his way over to my hand. He always made that
rustling sound, even though there was nothing to rustle. It was
just his way, I guess.

I scooped him up in my hand and brought him
up to eyelevel. Mousy is a weird sort of fellow, about half a foot
tall and looking something like an elongated rat, but slightly
gooey as if made out of jelly. I certainly don’t trust him, but
he’s never done anything bad to me as of yet, so I sort of count
him as a friend.

"So, where have you been?" I asked him
pointedly.

He made that rustling sound again, like a
rodent stirring in the bottom of a wastepaper basket.

"You could at least try squeaking or
something you know, normal mouse noises."

He rustled solemnly. I felt like he at least
tried to squeak, so I guess he earns points for that.

"What’s up, Mousy, why did you come out of
hiding?"

He rustled once more, hopped out of my hand
and scurried down the side of the bed. I hesitated for a moment,
but then realized I had nothing else going on so I might as well
see what he was up to.

Mousy led me over to a slightly dark patch
in the wall, as if the plaster had been water damaged. He looked at
it pointedly, then at me, then back at the patch in the wall.
Shrugging, I knelt down and poked at it.

It wobbled just slightly as if also made of
jelly, and then collapsed inwards, revealing a hole just big enough
for me to stick my hand into. Against all better judgment, I did
so, pushing my hand deep into the interiors of the wall.

I moved my hand back and forth, like a kid
rummaging for the snicker doodles in the cookie jar, until it
encountered something smooth and hard that felt different from the
surrounding textures. I pulled on it, nearly falling back in
surprise when I found it was loose and not even attached to the
wall. Carefully, so as not to damage whatever this strange object
was, I pulled it towards me until it clacked against the other side
of the wall. It wouldn’t fit...

Before I could twist it around to try and
pull it out from another angle, I heard the soft tread of footsteps
approaching the room to my door. I pulled my hand out just as the
door opened, Hammy walking through holding a tray with a bowl of
what looked like soup and a glass of water.

"What were you doing?" he asked in a
concerned voice, stepping over so that he stood beside me.

"Nothing!" I replied quickly, standing up
and trying to cover the hole I stood in front of.

"What were you doing to the wall?" he said,
gently nudging me aside and leaning down to look at the hole. He
ran his hands over the area with the hole in it, somehow missing
the hole itself. Flagham stood up after a moment and stared oddly
at me.

"Is there something wrong with the wall?" he
asked.

I just stared back, amazed that he hadn’t
spotted the hole.

"Err, I guess not," I replied, deciding to
lie. Lying was usually my best recourse. I glanced briefly around
for Mousy, but he didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.

"Are you alright?" he asked, raising an
eyebrow in question.

"Err, yeah, just dandy. Sorry, I... uh...
was just taking in the remarkable... texture... of the wall!"

Hammy continued staring.

"Are you sure you’re okay?"

"It’s just been a rough day. Um, how about I
get some sleep? I’m sure I’ll feel bundles better after a proper
night’s rest."

"Well, if you’re sure..." he replied
hesitantly.

I nodded encouragingly and crawled back in
bed.

"I’ll be back in the morning to check on
you, alright? In case you’re catching a fever or something?"

"Alright. Thanks, Hammy!"

He opened the door and left, glancing back
once or twice towards me. The instant his footsteps faded away I
leapt from the bed to go back to the hole in the wall, curious how
he couldn’t have spotted it. It was gone, leaving me confused and
frustrated.

I spent the rest of the day staring under
the bed waiting for Mousy to appear, hoping he might be able to
bring back that strange hole. But he never did and at some point I
fell asleep, tired of such mysteries, just wishing I could be
normal.

Life is not fun,

Nil, Out

Day 13

Haven’t written for a few days, because
nothing of note has happened other than the usual stuff. I think I
saw the Hooded Man yesterday while walking through the hall to
breakfast, but it might have just been a doctor standing in a
shadow. Mousy hasn’t come back, so I still have yet to solve the
mystery of the hole in the wall.