literature

Capture

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By
Domaex
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Literature Text





They said that a picture can capture a person’s soul. I thought they were joking. Rumors spread by overly religious cultish. I was wrong, oh! I was so wrong. If you’re out there, if you can hear me. Please... help.


  You didn't expect to hear the voice in your head. Honestly, it scared you. You dropped the HB #2 pencil in your hand and looked around. Was someone playing a joke on you? Was this Carmen’s sick idea of payback? Bitch, you’ll get her back...eventually. For the moment you cared about the perfect rendition of Adam that stared out of the page. The drawing even had his dimple ever so slightly caressing his perfect...drool worthy...-- You was daydreaming again. You're such a dork. You picked up the pencil again, and screamed when your fictional figure changed positions. Instead of leaning against a locker, he was crumpled on his hands and knees. He looked at the floor, his curly bangs a hiding his silent defeated expression. There was a gash on his right arm from the elbow to his wrist, and blood poured from it. How was the blood so life-like? It looked so wet, so vivid... You traced a finger over the coarse paper and jerked back when dry paper turned to slick...paint? What the fuck? Deep red streaks longed on your finger.  You looked at the picture and the figure--Adam-- was looking in the locker now.  He appeared to be writing something. What was he writing? You squinted at the drawing but couldn’t make out the smudged scribbles. Creepy or not, this drawing was impeccably detailed. You could even point out the Hard Rock Cafe Magnet in Adam’s locker. You pulled away from the picture to grab your cellphone to take a picture. Carmen would want proof for this story. When you turned back however; the picture was already changed. Adam stood tall now, or at least as tall as he could stand with an injured knee, you saw. Besides that, he held a sign: Whoever you are, please help. A picture can capture a soul.



  You snorted at the sign, you’ve drawn countless pictures of people, including yourself, and they had yet to lose THEIR soul. You glanced at your phone again, and picture Adam changed signs. This one was more pleading than the last one: PLEASE DRAW A DOOR. LET ME OUT.  There was even a bloody hand print in the corner. Over the next few minutes the signs became more and more frantic and you laughed. You laughed until you cried and when you were finally able to not pee your pants and look at the picture, you weren’t laughing anymore. Adam still held the frantic sign, but it was no longer funny because behind him there was a shadow. No, it wasn’t a shadow but a thing. It wasn’t the slight absence of light; it was the consumption of it. It wreaked evil, and as you leaned close to the picture the hairs on the back of your neck shot up. You looked around for your lost pencil then. You were going to do as you should’ve before: draw a door. When you located one and returned to the page, the monster thing was getting closer and Adam shook with fear, that is if drawings of people could shake. You quickly and crudely drew a trapdoor and blinked. Adam was at the door now, but he couldn’t get it open. He was pulling on it as hard as he could, but the door seemed locked. Locked? You facepalmed, and redrew the door open. When you blinked again, Adam was gone and only the monster remained. It was close to the trapdoor now, and looked at it as its escape from reality, or to reality in this case. you guessed.

  What are you staring at!? Close it!!  A voice said behind you, and you were going to turn your head when familiar arms shot out around you, grabbed an eraser and smudge out the trapdoor. In its place, he drew fire.  You blinked in shock and realization, and the picture was back to normal, almost. The creature was gone, leaving the lockers as you had drawn them, but without Adam leaning against them. You turned around to face Adam standing behind you.
You need to wake up. He said, and you scrunched your eyebrows. Weren’t you already up? Wake up. He repeated, and you blinked--



  --and bolted upright in your bed, scattering a mountain of books, pens and sketchbooks.

  “What the fuck,” You said groggily and felt around for your phone when your fingers touched familiar coarse paper. Your body went rigid with fear as you pulled it closer to you. It was flipped over, and you  knew you had to see what was on the other side. Gathering courage, you squeezed your eyes shut and flipped over the paper. You opened your eyes and sighed with relief. The picture was just a normal rendering of your lazy dog. No Adam. No trapdoors. No evil shadow-not shadows trying to kill said Adam.

  “That was too close..” A voice said next to you and you whipped your head around to see Adam sitting next to the bed. You looked back at the page and tried not to scream as the dog melted into letters which cooled into a single chilling statement: A picture can capture a soul.
This is a one-shot two-shot-ish story I wrote after having the first sentence stuck in my head for a week. The concept is a remake of a story I wrote that was more AU steampunk and not at all about stealing someone's soul with a portrait( although that would be some killer art. Eh? Killer? ok I'll stop now...) Erm... yea. Soooo I would love some critique on this, I'm aiming to start submitting more of my literature on here invez de* art( art no bueno from me.) and yea... I'm rambling(sorry)

*Invez de: In the place of. I tend to use the spanish wording because the word group of "instead of/in the place of" never comes to mind when I'm typing a message....
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ShinyScribe's avatar
ShinyScribe
omg, this was amazing. *w*
You're really good at writing tension here, keeping the reader wondering what will happen next. I have no idea if what happened really happened in the end, and that just makes it better. Just the idea of stealing someone's soul with a picture is so interesting, I love seeing it applied here. X3